Savagery (Khan -Star Trek- fanfiction)
by silverspacechameleon
Summary: Khan made the grave mistake of not taking the Admiral's threat seriously. He refused to let the same fate fall on to his remaining comrades. As he works tediously for the Admiral, his mind drifts back to a time. A time when he was a leader and there was only a thin line between lust and savagery. Shifting from Eugenics Wars to Present time. Khan/OC fanfiction.
1. Chapter 1: Bend

**So exciting! The launch of my Khan story, as promised. This was super fun to write, in a dark and twisted sense. Of course the story is still in Beta mode as I update so please bare with me if I take like a week off to write up new chapters. Anyway, have fun! Hope you guys enjoy it :) **

**xx**

**SSC**

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><p><strong><em>"Laws are made not to be broken.<em>**  
><strong><em> They are made to curb our savagery." <em>**  
><strong><em> ― Toba Beta, Master of Stupidity<em>**

Khan had a strikingly known portfolio of a chastised ruler. He could see the cautious way the guards watched him from outside his glass confinement. They have all been informed of who he is and what he is capable of.

Yet the Admiral had the audacity to threaten him with death and danger to his sleeping comrades.

Khan hated that he was brought out of his cryo-sleep for the attempt of a simpleton, trying to bend him to his will. Khan knew his laconic state irritated the harsh featured Admiral.

Khan will never bend.

Not to such an inferior ignorant being.

He averted his clear eyes to the cuffs around his strong able wrists. Methods of restraining prisoners had changed considerable since his time. The device around his wrists had no chains. It was made of a simple sleek metal of some form. A ten inch long, bar of steel kept the hoops around his wrists bridged together.

There were tiny sensors of some kind, underside the cuffs. He discovered they emitted a painful burst of electricity each time he misbehaved in the Admiral's eyes. The fact that he was so idle towards the form of torture further antagonized the Admiral.

Khan sat patiently awaiting the next form of manipulation the feeble minded leader of Starfleet could conduct.

The glass doors opened with a sharp burst of air. He raised his head in acknowledgement as the Admiral strolled in. Standing beside him were two muscle massed, colossal soldiers for his protection.

The two hulks in navy blue Starfleet uniform hauled Khan up to his feet. The former leader of the Augments did not appreciate the man handling.

They escorted his restrained form through winding corridors. Khan glanced up at the fluorescent lights and then to the back of the Admiral's thinning head of hair. He couldn't shake the forlorn feeling that was beginning to build at the base of his stomach. Markus was up to something sinister.

He was taken into a narrow room. There were no chairs. The most prominent feature in the space was the wide, reflective glass that took up most of the left wall. He was forced to face it.

He took in his reflection, standing between the two large broad men. He was still in the black ash coloured suit he was in during the induced sleep. He had refused to change into the Starfleet assignment attire they had provided him.

He knew what it would mean. The Admiral needed him, needed his services. He didn't care for the reason, all he knew what that he was refused to support.

That was until the reflective surface light up from within. The luminosity revealed a room behind the glass. Within in the space, on a lone chair in the center, sat the one person he was not expecting to see.

The same head of tousled, tight, copper curls. Her frizzy hair framed a round face with a pair of bright chartreuse eyes. They were darting about the room, wide and frantically. Khan hungrily took in the sight of her. She was restrained to a chair. The cuffs were part of the arm rests and at each urgent pull she made, the metal seat rattled.

Suddenly she looked right at him, through the glass. Khan stilled under the intrusion of her wrathful stare. It took him a moment of startled surprise to realize her stare wasn't focused. She couldn't actually see him. The reflective glass only allowed visual access to one side, his side.

She snarled and bared her teeth, revealing her sharp canines. The bronze skin of her face wrinkled around her mouth and up the bridge of her nose. A sign of her feline ancestry.

"She was among your crew, strange." The Admiral mused. His voice had taken on a smug tone. "Never thought you'd be the Caitian enthusiast, but considering she was the only one of her kind among your crew, she must be special."

Khan straightened his posture. He feared he must have revealed some frightful recognition on his face to have elicited such confidence in the Admiral Markus.

Khan knew what was to come. It was Markus's last straw. He was going to torture her right in front of Khan to rest his resolve and gain his compliance.

It was text book act.

His gaze was steady on her struggling form. His eyes darted over the darkening bruise on the left side of her face.

He awaited Markus's threats.

Markus produced a square device the size of his palm. It supported a blue button. He pressed down on the switch and the confined room was consumed in flames.

The amber fire swallowed up her writing form, right before his eyes. Khan could only stare in wide eyed disbelief. His heart thundering within his rib cage as her blood curdling screams echoed in his ears.


	2. Chapter 2: Rage

Chapter 2

His iridescent eyes were narrowed down at the torpedo design blue prints he studied.

Khan had discovered that in the 23rd century. Everything was operated through the use of electronic displays. Nothing was manual. Everything was digitally accessible. To help him adjust and work efficiently, the Admiral provided soft copies of the missiles.

He had accepted the work without qualms.

Inside he was seething in rage.

He was leaned over the flat work table. The pen in his grip began to shake from the pressure of his hold. Noticing this he dropped the object and clenched his fingers into his trembling hands. He was trying to stop the livid tremors that racked his body.

Her screams continued to haunt him like the loop of a broken record. Over and over again, driving him to madness. His tried to form a mental confinement around his emotions, but that was an impossible task. Even by Augument standards.

Zahara.

That wasn't always her name, but it was the name he remembered her by. The one he loved to whisper in that baritone. She loved it too despite being too stubborn to confess it. He recalled the frenetic pulse against her neck. The way her vibrant eyes danced, the way her dark pupils dilated.

The memory of her defiant eyes, expressive face and voluptuous lips, made him feel like an imaginary weight was pressing into his chest. The longing that filled him morphed into a rage that flowed through his veins.

He will not let the fame fate fall upon his remaining comrades. Khan knew he had to formulate a plan to gain his freedom and save his friends at the same time.


	3. Chapter 3: 1993

Chapter 3

**March 25th 1993**

Khan was having a pleasant morning. Despite the blazing heat in the city of Abu Dhabi. He was enjoying the air conditioned room he was provided by the Sheikh.

Sheikh Zayed was a reasonable man. After generations of living as nomads of the desert and then discovering oil. Wealth had not flawed his logic but transformed it.

Khan remembered when he first moved to conquer India. The occupants of the land were most unwelcoming. He supposed he had set an example to the other awaiting nations. The news of his and his comrade's ruthlessness in battle had travelled across the desert and reached the open ears of the Sheikh.

The Arab leader had greeted Khan and his crew with wide open arms. Inviting them into his palace, introducing him to his many siblings, then proceeded to entertain them in his private chambers reserved for the guests.

The Sheikh's palace was enormous. A towering monument to their culture. From the outside it was ordinary, tall block like structures piled up with flat roofs. The sandy walls reflected the environment they resided in.

But from within it was like he had entered a whole another world.

Patterned glossy tiles that were polished to perfection. Rich, red Persian carpets that lead a path through winding corridors. The scent of Oud and musk had filled his lungs. The taste lingered in his mouth.

Golden chandeliers with clear sparkling crystals hung from above, on a white ceiling. The glittering, dazzling lights brightened the room in rich warm tones of colour that accented the sparks of gold in their furniture and other ornaments.

Khan had discovered that Arabs were gold enthusiasts. There were five other Augments that accompanied him to meet the Sheikh. Orland was the most inquisitive one among them. The amount of gold had prompted him to ask the question from the Sheikh.

The man had smiled wide, flashing a row of white teeth that was too blinding against his thick dark beard. He said it was to echo the wealth and it makes for great decoration. Khan liked the Sheikh. He was most charismatic, but this also made him dangerous.

Zayed's overly ecstatic approval of them made his suspicious in Khan's eyes. Khan enjoyed taking his ease while being on guard at the same time.

After the welcoming dinner, the Sheikh had escorted them to their reserved rooms. Their residency was on the easy wing of the castle. Far from the Sheikh's quarters. This revealed their true mistrust to the observant Augment leader.


	4. Chapter 4: Progress

_**Thanks for the favs and follows :D. Now, comments are most appreciated :)**_

_**xx**_

_**SSC**_

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><p><span>Chapter 4<span>

"This is just unorthodox." Orlando stated fiercely gesturing an open hand at the large bay window leading to the balcony.

They were in Khan's quarters. The suites the Sheikh had provided them were luxurious to the extreme.

His room began with bleached doors with their infamous golden handles. The entrance lead to a foyer with a mahogany table in the centre. There was a sinuous ceramic vase on top of the table, adorned with white acacia and vermilion hibiscus flowers. The room carried the same strong scent of Oud and musk but the cool air from the A/C was a refreshing indulgence.

There were two archways on either side of the foyer. The one on the right lead to Khan's bedroom. There was a queen sized bed in the centre, prepared to perfection with coffee cream bed covers and several pillows propped against the head board. Two bedside tables stood erect on either side of the bed, carrying two shadow-bell shaded lamps.

A door next to the bed led to the bathroom. On the wall opposite the bathroom door was a French window with an alabaster frame. Sunshine streamed through the clear glass, illuminating the space. The light bounced off the concave awning above the bed with a blue mosaic rimmed lining. It held a chandelier at the centre. Khan remembered eyeing the source of illumination when he first saw it. He didn't approve of the strategic placement of the sharp crystals over his bed.

There was a cupboard in the far bottom left corner of the room, surprisingly lacking golden paint on its handles. The room had a very baronial, Arabian feel to it and it was very cozy.

The other path from the foyer led to Khan's new study. A large, red Persian carpet took up the entire tiled floor. A dark mahogany desk stood at the far middle. Rich stationary was already provided. His seat resembled a throne, high back and covered in black leather. He rather liked it.

Khan was seated at the desk, his long legs hidden by the wide table. He was casually reading the peace treaty and demands the Sheikh had had written up for him. Surprisingly, they weren't too trying.

He raised his head up from the document and looked to Orlando, his second in command and his friend. The man was bothered by the national clothing of the people of the U.A.E and he did not hide his opinions from others.

"It's tradition for them." Khan retorted monotonously.

Orlando continued to leer out through the window within the room. Wisps of his short blonde hair were highlighted by the sunshine. The intense light of the day made his usually striking blue eyes, seem colourless.

Orlando had very soft features in compared to most of his comrades, especially Khan. In moments when Khan stood, poised and elegant with power that radiated through his high cheeks bones, strong jaw and dark features. Orlando seemed like the younger sibling. His face was smooth and almost cherubic if not for his pristine nose. Despite his tall, broad shouldered structure. Orlando carried a boyishness about him that had caught the many smitten eyes of the native girls in India.

He stood poised and solider like in his ebony coat and pants. The uniform clothing of all Auguments. There was a silver insignia on the left breast pocket. It was a Triskelion, its three spiraling curves were frozen in an anti clock wise direction. It was a Celtic sign of progress and revolution.

The mark of the Auguments.

Khan too wore it proudly on his own suit.

"Yes I understand." Orlando said in response to Khan's comment. "But the heat is enough to boil eggs and they are walking around wearing black. If anything I pity them."

Khan smiled at this. The Arabs had a very strange culture. The modesty of the women were hidden behind thin black robs. The only skin they showed was the flesh around their eyes, which was surprisingly fair. He had discovered that the senior or middle aged group of women wore a gold mask over face that rest on the bridge of their noses.

Khan knew Orlando was more intrigued, despite finding the impracticality of it.

The men were dressed in white robes that they called a Gandurah. The only hints of the western influence were the cars they drove, and the expensive watches they wore.

Khan didn't mind the culture. He could do without the strong perfumes though. He had always been fascinated with learning new things. The rest of his team didn't object much either. Expect for three other women that accompanied them. Susan especially, she liked to voice her opinion boldly.

They were given strange looks. Women weren't equals in Arab culture. Khan discovered that by the looks of disapproval he had received from some of the Sheikh's advisors. The female Auguments had attended the meeting, regarding the fate of the Arab nation the night before. Many of the local members were perturbed by their presence.

Khan did not want to dismiss the women for the Sheikhs discomfort. Their culture's were about to fuse. Zayed needed to accept it as it is. Besides, Khan didn't want to have to deal with Susan's irate diatribes. He regretted the day he invited her to his bed. But one incensed look from him usually silenced her.

"What are their terms?" Orlando inquired, striding towards Khan's desk. His arms stiff at his sides, like the ever obedient soldier.

"Not much." Khan mused, leaning back into the leather comfort of his seat. "These people value family over a nation, they do not wish to interfere with our plans."

"But?" the young man added. Khan smiled at this. His friend shared his suspicions.

"We still have enemies. Mr. Khalifa for example. He does not approve of our plans for the oil supplies." Khan voiced his findings, Orlando nodded assiduously.

"Evidently the Sheikh cannot be too keen on someone else in his place." Orlando noted.

"Quite." Khan agreed. "We should expect some subtle attack on our lives, from them. Ignorance is a card we can play most fruitfully."

Khan was curious to see what methods of assassination they would try. The Indians had attempted poisoning, hiring professional gun men, even seemingly innocent children. But none had worked. After all, they were made to be indestructible.

"I have news from France." Orlando announced. Khan regarded him with his iridescent eyes gleaming in intrigue. He relaxed with his arms slung over the arm rests, listening intently.

"Joseph has successfully conquered the land." The Augument leader was surprised by the bulletin.

"He took longer than I suspected. Either way, we must send our congratulations. What of the States?"

"Still under progress."

"Hm." Khan steeling his fingers under his chin, he drifted into his thoughts. The Auguments had been around since the 1950's. Khan was only given reigns to lead a charge to India in 1990. He ruled the lands for three years before deciding to extend his rule towards the rich, oil exporting Arabs.

So far he and his kind had taken control of thirty five nations. After signing the treaty with the Arabs, he could add U.A.E to the list.

"It won't be long now." He said to Orlando. "We will soon have total control." Some would call it optimism but there were no probabilities in war. Only surety and Khan knew their superiority was unmatched.

A sudden knock at the door pierced the silence. Orlando's slender neck craned in the direction of the entrance.

"Enter." Khan boomed in his commanding tone.

Susan entered briskly. She was a tall slender woman. Her platinum blond hair was usually kept at a high pony tail, not a strand out of place. The black suits they all wore, hugged her slim figure. She walked with a grace and her head held high in a manner Khan used to find attractive. Now he couldn't help but feel the arrogance radiate in her stiff walk.

He was arrogant too, he wasn't oblivious to this. But in her it was more bitter and tyrannical.

She approached the foot of the desk. She nodded in acknowledgement to Orlando and then fixated her dark eyes on to Khan.

"His Highness wishes to present you with a gift. A transaction, I believe." She stated calmly. Khan was amused by this, his lips quirk up mirthfully.

"If it is a transaction it is not a gift." He stated. Susan nodded in frigid agreement.

"It would be rude not to accept. Apparently they were made just for us."

"Made?" Khan echoed his interest had peaked. He exchanged a furtive glance with Orlando.

Is this the subtle attack he was expecting?

"Well then." Khan got to his feet. His sharp, alabaster cheek bones radiating in pre-eminence "We mustn't keep his Highness waiting."


	5. Chapter 5: Gift

**Chapter 5**

Khan was escorted to the ballroom within the palace. Susan was the one that lead him and Orlando. They arrived at the room, the clicking of his shoes echoed within the spacious area.

The Sheikh was awaiting their arrival under the largest chandelier in the entire household. The room was Doric in decoration, furnished with alabaster walls with more accents of gold in their cornices. The ceiling was lower than the other rooms. Several French windows that were situated on the left side of the wall, filtered in the setting sun light. But the chandelier and other light fixtures carried most of the task in illuminating the wide space. It was empty of furniture for it wasn't planning on entertaining any guests any time soon.

Khan deduced the room could host up to 400 hundred people from its size alone.

The Sheikh's back was turned to them. He was dressed in his bleached white Gandurah paired with his Keffiyeh. He wore a thin black robe over his Gandurah. The material was lined with a strip of golden pattern that ran down along the hems. On the crown of his head he balanced a heavy duty hosepipe, it was called an Agal.

He wasn't alone. His cousins Mohammed and Ahmed were with him. They looked casual in comparison wearing just the white Gandurah and Keffiyeh. They both resembled Zayed in both broad structures and dark features.

They were taking in harsh, rapid whispers. Making threatening gestures of their hands. Khan observed quietly. His space to reach them slowed to a lazy stride. But as if sensing his arrival, their hawk like gazes fell on him and his comrades.

The Sheikh's slouched brooding form immediately straightened. A large welcoming grin stretched across his face. The visage that was moments ago, heavy with a murky shadow.

"Ah my friend." He waited for Khan to reach him. The moment he did, Zayed planted a calloused hand on the curve of the Augument's shoulder, then using his free hand to shake Khan's open palm.

"As-Sa'lam alaikum" He greeted warmly, his voice thick with the heavy consonants in his language.

"Wa-alaikum-salaam, your Highness." Khan responded in deep baritone. The Sheikh grinned and released his hold on Khan to gesture to his cousins. Their acknowledgements were frigid in comparison, but that could be excused for the lack of English in their vocabulary. Khan didn't want to hold it against them, until he felt compelled to otherwise.

"How are you accommodations? Comfortable I hope." Zayed inquired in the most gracious manner, though his tone was coarse with his accent. Khan smiled broadly.

"More than comfortable. Thank you for making this transition painless."

"But of course." Zayed voiced, weaving his fingers together in front of his in a kingly manner. "If there is anything more you will need, please do not hesitate to ask. My servants are yours to utilize as you please."

"Thank you." Khan replied with a slow recline of his head. "You are most kind."

Khan glanced back at the slender blonde female that stood just an arm length behind him.

"Susan has informed me that you have something for me, your Highness." He reminded, gesturing his head in her direction.

Zayed gave a brief glance at her before nodding enthusiastically.

"Yes a gift!"

As if rehearsed, two tall porcelain doors from the far left, swept open. Khan raised his head in wonder, staring expectantly.

Three figures emerged. Two males and one female, they were impeccably well dressed in tailored uniforms. Long sleeved coats fitted to their lithe forms, held together tightly by gibbous brass buttons.

They marched towards them. A tall ebony haired male led the movement. He had the skin and body of a man whose daily habits involved working under a hot sun. The palm leaf green colour of his suit stood out against his flesh.

He was followed by another male, equally dark but slimmer in frame. The black colour of his uniform was only a shade lighter to his skin tone.

Preceded by him was a woman. Khan noticed her first from the striking crimson of her suit. Her skin was a gleaming bronze shade, but what caught his attention the most was her face.

Khan never denied being a man who wouldn't notice a beautiful woman. But there was something hauntingly captivating in the creature before him. She stood out, with her auburn hair that was thick, with short tight curls over an oval shaped face. The luxuriant spiraling tresses reached her shoulders in a frizzy mass. The two male's head of hair was primed and slick back, nothing like the wildness she portrayed.

Her gaze was lowered as if counting each step she took. He saw long sandy lashes, fanned over plump cheeks.

They were lined up by an unknown man dressed in a coffee coloured Gandurah and Keffiyeh. His clothes seemed shabby in contrast to the royals. Khan's keen gaze honed in on the strange man's face. His hatched face seemed only more sinister with his beak like nose.

Khan's gaze drifted back to the female, he continued to eye her. His interest was momentary and he was about to avert his stare when she suddenly looked up.

Her eyes were like lustrous gold rotund stones in a milky white canvas. They were intense behind spiral curls the colour of sunset. She watched him boldly, defiantly. He could feel her reading him, taking in his appearance the same way he did hers. Then suddenly the gleam in her eyes had vanished. The contemptuous shine dulled to an ordinary shade of brass.

Khan was highly intrigued by what he had witnessed.

"My contribution to your cause." Zayed boomed majestically. Khan reluctantly looked to the Emirati leader. His thin dusky brows raised in inquiry.

"Contribution?" He echoed.

"Soldiers for your army." He introduced, gesturing an open had at the stiff individuals.

Susan's lips parted in a prepared rebuttal, but Zayed raised a hand up in a swift and arbitrary manner. This forced the Augument to surrender to silence.

"I know the idea is absurd, considering your conquests. But these creatures are made to be the best at what they do."

"And what is that?" Khan asked curtly, his colourless eyes fixated on the woman.

"Killing." A new voice answered, the Augument realized the stranger had spoken a wicked grin stretched across his craggy face.

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><p><strong>*As-Sa'lam alaikum, Wa-alaikum-salaam = Peace be unto you, And unto you peace<strong>


	6. Chapter 6: Khathal

**Sassiebone:** Thank you for the review ^^ I am so happy you stumbled across my story. I hope I do not disappoint you, things are just about to pick up ;)

xx

SSC

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><p><span>Chapter 6<span>

They were led to a clearing behind the palace. Khan was exchanging suspicious looks with Orlando and Susan who walked beside him. They followed the Sheikh, his cousins, the strange man and his contributions.

The Sheikh had introduced the odd man, his name was Salim. "The handler of the creatures." As The ruler had so casually put it.

Khan didn't understand why they kept referring to the humans as creatures. Other than the anomalous shade of colour in their eyes, they seemed ordinary.

A lone cloud was floating about the horizon, casting over the setting sun. Rays of light fanned out over the blue sky.

The sands seemed frozen with permanent ripples, soft shadows across the russet hills. Khan's inquisitive gaze fell upon the erect mute green tent just a few feet away. There were two male servants. Their uniform consisted of white robe with long, bell-bottom sleeves. The robe was held in place with a thick sash, adorned in a delicate, thin gold pattern. They were frantically bustling about, arranging seats for them.

As they neared the sight, Khan saw a platform laid out at the centre of the clearing, in front of the tent. It was a flat metal structure. He guessed to be ten feet in length and five in width.

The Sheikh's royal robes were bellowing majestically in response to the mild wind. The heat of the morning was gathered and swept away by the light breeze. Small sand tornadoes were brewing in the distance, among their continuous desert hill background.

The Auguments were led to the shade of the tent. Six low, curved back wooden chairs were placed over a golden brown carpet, with two servants posed at the back wall of the tent.

Khan wondered when His Highness would utter an explanation to the ominous statement he had made in the ballroom earlier.

The mysterious three in their suits marched across the platform and lined up at the far left corner. They shifted around in soldier elegance and faced the tent.

The Auguments took their seats after the Sheikh and his cousins. Khan sat beside Zayed with Orlando on his left. Susan sat on the free seat beside Orlando, primly folding her hands on her lap.

Orlando sat pleasantly and made a friendly gesture to one of the servants and whispered a request. The eager boy scampered off and returned with a round silver tray. There were neatly cut, rectangular pieces of soft date cake. Orlando eagerly picked up a slab of the confectionery, uttered a "Shookhran." and began to nibble on the cake.

Susan rolled her clear eyes at her comrade's inability to pass a moment without eating.

Khan knew a demonstration of their so called "Killing" abilities was about to begin. His gaze fixated automatically on to the woman in the red suit. Her attention was focused on the floor, immersed in her thoughts. Sensing his scrutiny her chin lifted, her gaze fixated on him.

Khan's eyes narrowed curiously. She stared back, boldly.

Three new faces emerged from the same path they had taken. Two large broad shouldered men marched in their directions. Each held a grim expression with dark facial hair that made them seem menacing. They were dressed in loose black Cossack pants and tight blue t-shirts that acted like a second skin. As if they were made for the sole purpose of highlighting their bulging biceps.

"A militia friend from Iraq sent me his finest warriors." The Sheikh informed as the brooding warriors strutted towards them and lined up before them. They simultaneously bowed to Zayed. The Sheikh acknowledged their salutation with a regal nod of his head.

"They have been trained heavily in combat and said to be the best of their kind."

"Kind?" Khan echoed inquisitively.

"Assassins." Zayed added casually. Susan and Orlando immediately tensed at the word and sat up a little. They were familiar with the word, having to deal kill of plenty during their time in India.

_Fascinating._ Khan mused to himself, sinking into his chair.

"I've promised a payment of five gold bricks for their participation."

"Ah." Khan uttered, pleased that his deduction was correct "So this is a demonstration."

"But of course." The Sheikh boomed with a wide gesture of his arms. "I would never give faulty merchandise."

It could have been a trick of the eye, but Khan saw the woman's jaw clench at the words that left the Sheikh's lips. Khan wasn't irked in the slightest. He was more intrigued to see what talents his gifts possessed.

"I have named them the Wahash." Zayed stared rather proudly, like the name itself should have induced terror into Khan. But the Auguments remained calm and composed.

"Let's begin the demonstration. Yallah, Salim!"

Salim was standing idly and at the raucous command by the Sheikh, he scampered on to the middle of the platform.

Khan watched the slouching man carefully. He clicked his fingers together and made an impatient gesture of his hand. The Wahash in the leaf green suit stepped forward. His march was rigid and his face was devoid of emotion. He stopped beside Ali Al Kim and faced the Sheikh.

Zayed leaned towards Khan's side and in turn the Augument leader gave him his ear.

"You see the Wahash, they feel no pain." He stated his voice thick with his rough accent. Khan watched as the Wahash shrugged off his coat, revealing the white wife beater he wore underneath. His nearly black skin was prominent against his top. He casually let his coat fall to the floor. Then he straightened his shoulders and clenched his hands at his side, as if preparing himself.

Salim produced a dagger from the belt at his side and unsheathed it. Then without warning he plunged it deep into the Wahash's stomach. Orlando gaped and nearly dropped his half eaten slice of cake. Susan sat up vigilantly.

Khan was startled too, and observed the Wahash's expressions very keenly. All he saw was indifference. Even as Salim pulled out the blade at a painstakingly slow pace, The Wahash remained calm and controlled.

"His name is Sabaah. Salim had informed me that he possessed the most brute strength among his kind." Zayed added in a nonchalant way while Khan struggled to avert his attention from the blade, it was dripping with red blood.

"I can see that." He had to force his voice to be devoid of amazement when he was struggling to process what he had just saw.

_No pain? _The idea sounded positively absurd. Auguments felt pain too. It was a basic, sensory need to escape danger. But they healed fast thus shortening their recovery time.

The Wahash however.

Salim lifted up the loose material of Sabaah's top but the hem, revealing the already healing wound on his taut stomach.

"They do not attack unless commanded to. It is part of their training." The Sheikh added as Salim stepped out of the ring and one of the assassins entered the arena. Sabaah faced the solider with the same passive expression as before.

Khan watched as the assassin took a stance. Legs apart and arms folded towards his body and fingers curled into a fist. Then after a moment of hesitation the man punched Sabaah straight across his strong jaw.

He took the hit stolidly. His head snapped to the side from the impact but he regained his composure quickly. The assassin continued to land blows across his face, then his stomach and even to his chest. Sabaah stood, enduring it all, even as blood dripped down his left nostril and cuts began to form across his high cheek bones.

Khan could only sit still and review the entire spectacle while trying not to let his shock truly show. He glanced and was taken aback by the way the skin on the bridge of her nose was slightly wrinkled. He continued to watch her.

Rhythmically to each strike the hired warrior inflicted on Sabaah. Her glower continued to deepen. The golden gleam in her eyes was back and fiercer than ever.

When the assassin grew tired and his trembling, muscular arms slackened at his side. His frustration was clear in the heavy, guttural pants that left his lips and the dark shadow of hate under his eyes. Pushing past the fatigue he attempted to make another assault when the Sheikh's rough command stopped him.

He froze up, uttered a curse under his breath and then straightened his posture. He stiffly turned to face the royal, bowed and then ambled off the platform.

Sabaah's jaw was at an ugly angle, but he adjusted the dislocated bone with an ease that was terrifying to watch. Then he lowered his arms to his sides again, bent over to pick up his fallen jacket, shrugged it on and then walked off the stage once more.

Susan and Oswald exchanged concerned furtive glances. Khan continued to watch the woman. The glimpse of resentment he had witnessed in her had disappeared behind to a mask of indifference.

"Who commands them?" Khan questioned, sternly.

"The person they recognize to be their master."

_That's a topic of debate._ He couldn't help but reflect on. He relaxed into his seat, his fingers weaving together in thought. He could feel the royals probing stares falling on to him.

After a moment of deliberating silence, he decided to speak.

"I wish to see their skills in battle." He requested flatly.

"But of course. Ashera is known to be the most excellent fighter." He was referring to the other male, the shorter one.

"That maybe, but." His cold attention never left the female. "I want to see her."

Khan was expecting a rebuttal of some form from the Sheikh, but the man merely smiled wickedly.

"Very well." He said with a congenial nod of his head. Then he fixated his gaze back on to the handler.

"Al mara." He gravelled out to Salim. The man scattered to do his bidding and made the same rude movement of his hands towards the woman. She blinked, snapping out of her thoughts. Khan half expected to see a look of astonishment on her face, but she treated the request with the same apathy Sabaah had.

She stepped into the platform as Salim moved back. Another assassin entered the ring. The dark, harsh features of his face made his smug smile seem sinister. He craned his neck roughly from side to side, emitting cracking noises.

The woman faced him, her hands reaching up and beginning to unclasp the brass buttons of her coat. She shrugged off the material in a grace that Khan found too sensual. He resisted the urge to shift in his seat.

Bronze shoulders peaked out from beneath the vermilion red. She wore a vest similar in colour but more fitting to her feminine frame. Khan observed her carefully, absorbing the sight of her tone slender arms down to her taut, slim waist. She tossed the coat on to the floor, neglecting it.

Khan couldn't help but see self-righteousness in her defenceless stance against the assassin. Her opponent was a staggering six feet and she seemed minuscule in comparison to his bristling body. But she remained undaunted, waiting for the adversary to make the first move.

He pushed off the balls of his feet as a guttural yell left the base of his thick neck. He charged at her. Khan knew what the dramatic act meant, the man wanted to intimidate her. It was a pompous and over the top but he still sought after her response.

She moved in a cat like ferocity, fast and agile. She ducked and side swept under the man's arm that swung in her direction. He was caught off guard by her sudden disappearance. She moved behind him and kicked him hard in the back. The man stumbled forward and fell fast first on to the metal plate. They heard the sickening crack of bone and the loud ear piercing scream that left his lips.

Her leg was still posed in the air. With a measured control over her balance, she folded her elongated leg towards her body till her heel hit the back of her thigh. Simultaneously she slanted forward and regained her erect posture. Her arms that were pulled towards her chest, loosened at her sides.

Khan was amazed, how did someone so small deliver such a powerful attack?

She regained her composure so smoothly it was hard to fathom that she had even retaliated.

The brute of a man scrambled up, bringing his legs under him. He spun around wildly and locked his seething gaze on to her. Blood was gushing down his nose and seeped into his bristly moustache.

He snarled then ran at her.

She didn't move to duck this time. Instead she faced him head on. He swung his right arm, fist tight and ready to make impact with her face. She caught his wide wrist in an open palm and her claws dug into his skin. Another howl escaped his mouth and his tried to hit her with his free arm. She dipped her head under the blow like she was avoiding a beam and then stepped to the right, bringing the man's arm with her.

Another sickening crack echoed in the wind followed by the man's cry of agony. She had dislocated his shoulder in a brutal precision.

"She is a feisty little hell cat isn't she." Orlando mused in a perverse wonder, practically on the edge of his seat and staring at the woman.

"She isn't anything special." Susan grumbled, unimpressed as always.

Khan had no comment. He was too taken by the sight of her. She was circling the man she had brought to his knees. She was watching him, holding on to his limp arm and snivelling in pain. Khan saw it, the pleasure in her gleaming golden orbs. She had enjoyed the hurt she had caused, she revelled in her power.

Realizing the battle was over she retreated back to her original spot and stood once more in her dignified place.

The assassin was struggling to get his legs under him again while supporting his arm.

"Their skills are suppressed now to their basic instincts. Only through saying their summoning command does their true potential show." Zayed's words caught Khan's interest.

"Summoning command, you're Highness?"

"Why yes. Do you know what the word Wahash means ?" The Sheikh turned his princely chin on to Khan, watching him with a self-righteous satisfaction.

"No I am not familiar with the word." The Augument leader answered truthfully. The Emirati's predatory smile widened.

"It means, beast." His words hung in the air in a menacing impression. Abruptly his attention snapped back to the shabby handler.

"Salim." He barked grabbing the man's notice "Nakul al amar."

Khan immediately saw the way her posture stricken. _Say the command?_ Khan translated the Sheikh's command in his mind. He felt his blood race at the sudden tension that thickened the air around him.

_What command? _

Salim the handler fixated his hawk like gaze on to the woman's back.

"Khathal."

Her shoulders unexpectedly hunched forward. The tight curls of her hair curtained the sides of her face. Khan did not miss the way her tan arms began to convulse, the tremors travelled to the rest of her body.

Her opponent had seen the change and took stumbling, cautious steps back with one hand still on his injured shoulder.

Her head snapped up and this time, she was the one snarling. She charged at an impossible speed and jumped up into the air. Her opponent didn't even have a chance to run because she had already kicked him down with the heels of her boots and pinned him to the floor.

The Augument's watched, unable to run away as she brought her clawed hands down on the man's neck.

Again and again.

Blood and bits of flesh splattered across the surface of the platform, left and right. Soon the man was a lifeless, bleeding corpse. The woman was still slashing at him, through skin and muscles and into bone.

"Kalas." The handler boomed gruffly, startling them out of their reverie.

Her arm froze mid strike. A moment of stunned silence passed through the desert. Then, slowly, she straightened to her full height.

She was panting, her chest was heaving at each breath she took. The red liquid had managed to tinge strands of her sunset hair and her shirt. The dark red liquid caked her hands like a painted gloves.

Her movements were rigid as she stepped over the body and stood by the dead man's side. She tucked her hands behind her body, her profile facing them and her face once again, devoid of sentiment.

A loud retching noise pierced the silence. One of servants lacked the stamina to contain his nauseated state and had scattered off to vomit. The unappealing noise still managed to reach them in the vast space.

"So my friend, what do you think?" Zayed inquired coolly, choosing to ignore the noises made by a member of his staff.

Khan was gritting his teeth. His attention still hadn't left her. The blank, departed look in her eyes was unnerving. His incensed stare shot to the dead body of the former assassin, a expression of stunned dread was froze on his wide eyed expression.

"I think. They will be the most fearsome creatures at my disposal." Despite the amazed gratitude in his voice, Khan was fighting the urge to rip out the Sheikh's throat then and there. The ruler was placing erratic, murderous creatures under their roofs and claiming them to be gifts.

The threat wasn't subtle in the least.

"I knew you would like them my friend!" The Sheikh bellowed proudly, a deep hearty laugh leaving his lips that further antagonized the Augument captain. The Emirati king clapped Khan on the back of the shoulder again and gestured his free hand at the Wahash.

"Now, who do you wish to take?"

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><p><strong><span>*Khathal: Kill<span>**


	7. Chapter 7: Strategic

**Two short chapters=review? :D **

**xx**

**SSC**

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><p>Chapter 7<p>

Khan knew he had to tread carefully. The situation had turned precarious. They had managed to create superhuman being fusing animal DNA. To make matters worse, they responded to commands.

An alarming question drifted into his thoughts. Just how many commands did these creatures have?

There was a knock at his door. Marching forward, Khan placed a wide hand over the handle and twisted before pulling the door open.

She was standing at the threshold, wearing the same red suit. Her vibrant head of sunset curls were a little damp. Khan guessed she had cleaned up after her encounter with the now dead, assassin.

He was stunned by the sight of her. She raised her gaze and met his firmly.

"Sir." She greeted giving him a curt nod of her head. Her voice held a smoky, purr that was strangely appealing. From the way he had witnessed her kill, he half expected her to hiss out her words.

Her posture was straight and her arms were stiff at her sides. She regarded him with her ocher eyes again.

"You are early." He commented. Khan had hoped for a little more time to discuss the presence of the creatures with his comrades. The obvious haste of the Arabs to install the Wahash on to them was most questionable.

She blinked, momentarily startled by his strict tone. But the astonishment vanished and was replaced by her taciturn expression.

"Sorry Sir, shall I come back later?" She suggested. He considered this, but watching the female, he couldn't help but be intrigued.

"No matter." He dismissed her proposition and stepped to the side, widening the angle of space between the door and its frame.

"Come in." He insisted. Her posture stiffened once more. Khan did not miss the cautious glance she directed into the dim lighting within his quarters.

She stepped forward and crossed the threshold, taking her preliminary steps into his chambers. He shut the door after her before turning to face her.

He observed amused by the way her neck craned from side to side. She was sniffing the air and her surroundings. Satisfied with the environment she addressed him with her profile.

The orange light from the adjacent bedside lamps in his bedroom glinted against the brass buttons of her ruby red jacket. He recalled the moment when she had stripped the coat off her strong shoulders, revealing to him the olive skin tone that travelled up her lithe arms.

She was watching him expectantly while standing in the middle of the foyer, in front of the centre table that held the vase of withering flowers.

"So..." He drawled, his deep voice filling the silence. He approached her, his arms tucked behind his back as he paced to her. He circled her much like a hawk would to a prey. She stood undaunted by his piercing gaze.

"You are to be my protector?" He noted out loud. She gave a fleeting glance in his direction.

"I am to be utilized as you please, sir."

His clear eyes gleamed hungrily at her statement_. If that is true, solider is the last task I would give you._ He chose not to voice his wicked thoughts.

Her strikingly gold eyes were fixated on the back of the door.

"I'll admit your skills as an individual are most...remarkable."

"Thank you, sir." She retorted as if forced to accept his compliment. He stopped in front of her, blocking her view of the door in a silent demand for attention. His looming presence continued to be ignored by her, in the most reticent fashion.

"Does my protector have a name?" He was teasing despite his monotonous tone. She looked to him from beneath her sandy brown lashes. He immediately noticed the feline features of her face. The flat bridge of her nose, the slight peak of sharp canines when her lips parted. He even saw the tips of her ear lobes peaking from beneath a mass of wry, copper curls.

"My assigned name is Arba." He did not miss the disguised vehemence in her voice when she uttered the title.

"Arba." He echoed. The Arabic numerical for the number four. They were part of a system. Sabaa was the seventh and Ashera was the tenth. This made him wonder how many of her kind were created.

"Where are your quarters, Arba?"

"I will stay wherever you deem appropriate, Sir." She responded drolly.

He was astounded by this. It was not intended banter when the Sheikh had said they would shadow him at all times.

His gaze shot to the bed out of some strange instinct in him. Dismissing the thought, his eyes settled on her again.

"I'll let you decide." He retorted. She was not expecting the order, but she was quick to mask her stunned state and left his shadow to move about the space. He watched her purposeful strides, studying the frantic darting of her captivating gaze.

She hesitantly stepped into his sleeping quarters. He was intrigued by how she completely avoided the bed, not even bothering to acknowledge at it. Maybe she wanted to steer clear of a suggestive comment from him. This made him wonder if men had been inappropriate around her before.

She halted in front of his tall wardrobe. She reached up and with deft fingers she probed at the wood, testing its stability.

_Surely she does not intent to sleep among my clothes does she?_ He wondered to himself, trailing after her into room.

Satisfied by the structure of the cupboard, she turned to him.

"I'll take rest on top of this." She gestured to the storage unit. It dawned on to him why she had chosen that particular spot. It gave a direct view of the door and window, a perfect vantage point.

_How strategic._ He nodded in approval. She took a step to him and pulled out a neatly folded paper from within the recess of her coat. She held the card between two slender fingers, waiting for him to accept it.

He plucked the paper and began to leisurely unfurl it, his gaze focused on her the entire time.

"My trigger, command in case you had forgotten, sir." She explained. Khan was annoyed by this. The Sheikh continued to doubt his intelligence, like he couldn't remember one simple word. He crushed the paper in his hand. He wondered how many trigger words were there if one had to be written down in order to be remembered.


	8. Chapter 8: Torpedoes

**Chapter 8**

**Year: 2258 Location: Section 31**

"So your feline friend, she isn't a Caitian is she?" Markus inquired as he stood at the edge of Khan's working desk. His tone was goading at best and his piercing blue eyes were glinting with wicked intent. Khan was in the middle of running checks on the operational system of the Admiral's new ship, when Markus had arrived.  
>The commanding officer had made it his personal mission to irritate Khan, with his relentless comments and questions regarding his past. Thankfully for Khan's sanity, the man only once a month to check up on the Augument's progress.<p>

Khan pressed on the touch screen of the monitor in front of him, a little harder than necessary. He couldn't help but notice the tempting presence of his sharp pen that could easily pierce the Admiral's jugular.

"But she looks a lot like one, minus the tail and the excessive hair growth." Markus commented while toying with one of the miscellaneous piece of machinery on Khan's desk. "Tell me, Harrison. Who was she to you?"

Khan had to award the Admiral for being able to weave antipathy inducing ways into one sentence.

"Part of my crew." He muttered out, his jaw muscles clenched in aggravation. The wrinkles around Markus's mouth deepened in a sinister smirk, seeing the irritation in Khan's stance and stoic expression.

"Strange, she isn't an Augment, why would you keep her around?" the Admiral pondered while rubbing his squared chin "You weren't chasing some hybrid tail were you?"

"Do not speak of what you do not know." Khan had to commend himself for keeping his tone so monotonous, despite being on the precipice of committing assault.

"She must not be worth much. You are hardly bothered by her absence." Markus muttered unkindly as he folded his arms behind his back.

Khan focused his incensed gaze on to the screen. The soft pallid glow of light deepened the shadows on his strong features. With typing he brought up an animated profile of Star Flee space ship. The ebony paint of the image gleamed at each slow spin.

"I've added the weaponry and modifications required for the ship. Minimal crew is required, one if necessary. Advanced weaponry, warp core capabilities and speed."

"Excellent, when will the Vengeance we ready." Admiral inquired, the malice in his voice had left and was replaced with a cold, commanding seriousness.

"In a few months time." Khan answered. He hoped that diverting Markus's attention to the details on the ship would throw away any suspicion off Khan. After all, he was running his own tests and modifications on a few torpedoes. If all went according to plan, he would be able to smuggle out his remaining crew.


	9. Chapter 9: Routine

**This chapter was fun to write. Things are getting intense. Thank you for the favs and once again Sassiebone, for the input :)  
><strong>

**More reviews would be most appreciated :D**

**xx**

**SSC**

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><p>Chapter 9<p>

The Wahash were routine creatures.

Khan was an early riser. He enjoyed watching the sun rise over the golden hills. He found pleasure in the way the midnight sky began to warm to a blush purple.

The first night she had stayed, he had forgotten her presence when he left his bed. She was perched on top of his wardrobe, much like a jungle cat. Her eyes were glinting like marbles with a gold core. Then slowly she had jumped down from on top of the cupboard. Her landing was graceful and agile, he was a little entranced at first.

She then bowed in a gracious acknowledgement before walking out into the balcony.

Arba would accompany him in most tasks. She would stand beside him as he signed papers and only moved to sit if she was ordered to. When his coordinated meals arrived she loomed in on the timid servant's space. She then sniffed at the food, testing to see if it was compromised and then brought it to him.

He had never seen her eat. After the third day he wasn't even sure if she slept.

"He just keeps following me everywhere. I bet if there wasn't a lock on the door of the bathroom, the man would watch me urinate." Orlando ranted while pacing the width of the carpet in Khan's study, facing his desk.

The Augument leader was brought out of his thoughts by the words that left his second in command's mouth. Khan frowned and leaned back into the comfortable leather of his chair and fixated his glower on to the blonde man.

"Thank you for that Orlando. I really needed that image in my head." He grumbled irately. Orlando immediately stopped pacing and looked to Khan before smiling brightly.

"You're welcome." He responded amiably. Khan focused his attention on Arba. She was sitting silently on the lone chair situated in the far left corner, facing his table. Her back was straight, her attention focused on the wall opposite her and she seemed to be lost in her thoughts.

"Arba." He called, immediately grabbing her attention. She calmly turned her profile to him, his golden eyes wide in question.

"Leave us." He insisted smoothly. Without a word of protest she stood up, bowed to the both of them and marched past the study, through the foyer and out the door. The two men watched her leave before Orlando chose to break the silence.

"Why do you get the only female one?" He asked averting his attention to Khan once more. Khan did not miss the slight carp in his voice.

"Because I picked first." Khan answered curtly with a condescending pinch of his lips. Orlando rolled his blue eyes and folded his arms behind his back.

"Lucky bastard." He grumbled "Want to exchange?"

Khan smiled "No."

"Wager then?"

"No."

Orlando sighed out in surrender and decided changing the topic was best. "All ready for your speech tomorrow?"

"It's hardly a speech." Khan responded, weaving his slender fingers under his chin, his colourless orbs focused on the mahogany table. "I am simply revealing our presence to the public."

"Make sure to speak in Arabic. Awe and comfort them at the same time." His friend advised pleasantly. Khan nodded in agreement, Orlando had a point. If he was to gain the public's intrigue and trust then he needed to speak their language. But he didn't request privacy to discuss the matter of the speech. Khan wanted to talk about a more pressing matter.

"Has there been any strange activity at your end from our...protectors?" He asked.

"Other than the alarming fact that they have kill switches that could be activated any moment to slaughter us in our sleep?" Orlando grinned and shook his head "No."

"We've all arrived to the same conclusion then. Good. We need to find a solution, fast." Khan mused while rubbing his chin in thought.

"Why the rush?" The blonde inquired while eyeing the Newton's cradle that was perfectly still on Khan's desk. He was fighting the temptation to play with it.

"They are not a gift, they are a time bomb. I don't know when they plan on unleashing them on us but it will be before the rest of us get here." Khan could practically imagine waking up in the middle of the night to Arba leaning over him, ready to slice his throat. Of course, he would have his guard up, but would that be enough?

"It's all conjecture so far, we need to find out what they are up to." He added after a moment.

"Want me to gather Intel?" Orlando suggested. He was the best at stealth and blending into the shadows. Khan knew he could rely on his friend to find everything he could and not be caught in the process.

"Yes, by tonight."

"No problem."

There was a sudden knock at the door. Khan barked out an order and the door open, it was Arba.

"Excuse me Sir." She graced him with a curt nod of her head "His Highness had requested your presence, they are about to leave for the fuel inspection."

* * *

><p>Khan and Orlando made their way down the pastel red brick path behind the palace. Arba followed them, always at a measured five steps behind. He knew it was part of their strict conduct. The fuel inspection Arba had mentioned was something Khan had insisted on. He wanted to see the inner workings of the oil providers in the U.A.E. Soon he would be the one to manage the exports of the energy source. Another reason to be on high alert for treachery.<p>

Orlando walked beside Khan, his attention focused a few feet ahead. Susan was leading a train session with two other Auguments one male and one female. The male one was Joaquin. He was a tall, slim, capable man. He had a square face with a very sharp jaw line. His dark hair and eyebrows stood out against his pale complexion. The deep furrowed lines of his forehead gave onlookers a glimpse to the serious person he was.

The woman was Suzette she acted as Susan's understudy. She had a sandy blonde head of hair that reached just over her shoulders in an elegant Bob cut. She usually had a polite smile plastered on to her pretty face, the smile never reached her chocolate brown eyes.

They were dressed in their training uniforms, which was usually a dark blue suit that could be zipped up at the front. But they had chosen not to wear the top half of the uniform and only kept the black vests underneath. Khan guessed it was so the heat didn't bother them.

The two Wahash's, Ashera and Sabaa stood at the far end of the platform. They had stripped out of their coats and stood in white wife beaters. Ashera was supporting his usual shade of black pants and Sabaa with his leaf green. They stood on the outskirts of the platform, calm and unruffled as usual.

It was a lot cooler than the day before. The sun was setting, leaving the sky to darken to a blush purple. The moon had already emerged in a chalky, faint, crescent stamp in the sky.

Joaquin had Suzette in a headlock that she was struggling to get out of. Susan was observing them when the approaching Orlando and Khan caught her attention.

"Khan, Orlando." Susan greeted she turned to them and nodded. Joaquin and Suzette quickly scrambled to their feet to stand beside Susan. They inclined their heads in gracious acknowledgement. They were training hard, Khan could tell from the light sheen of sweat that gleamed on each of their faces.

"Susan, what's happening here?" Orlando inquired, his blue eyes glimmering playfully. Khan didn't know why Orlando enjoyed asking such obvious questions.

"A little sparring session, the heat isn't so bad this afternoon so I thought I'd make use of it." She said then gestured to the stoic warriors behind her "The Wahash make excellent sparring partners. Thank you for lending yours to me Orlando."

"My pleasure." The blonde man responded with a charming grin that deepened the laugh lines around his mouth.

"So how are they against our own?" Orlando asked inquisitively, that was a question even Khan was intrigued by.

"They can keep up so far, of course there is one left to test." No one missed the sharp look Susan directed on to Arba. The female Wahash stood behind Khan. Feeling Susan's penetrating gaze, she acknowledged it.

A devious smile pinched at the corners of the Augument's full lips, a smile that didn't waver even as she looked to the dark featured leader.

"How well do you think your Wahash will feat?" She asked, despite the lightness in her tone Khan knew her intentions were not.

"She fought well enough that first time." He replied monotonously.

"I meant against me." Susan added in a stern confidence. His dusky brows lifted in vague wonder.

"Is that a challenge?" He mused, her smile intensified. Orlando perked up, his energy radiated in a sudden restlessness.

"Khan you must say yes." Orlando muttered to Khan, in a perverse eagerness. The Augument commander resisted the urge to roll his eyes at his friend's antics.

"I want to see if your _protector_ can take a punch." Susan stated in a mocking way, her attention focused on Arba. The Wahash stared back boldly, her expression was slack of emotion but she was confidently holding her own in the stare battle.

"Arba let's see how well you do against Susan." Khan said. A moment of silence followed until Arba began to unbutton the front of her red coat. Susan turned away victoriously and made her way to the platform.

Arba unclasped the last brass button. The coat gave way and she began to remove the heavy material in her usual slow pace. Khan watched her, unable to turn away from the sensual movements of her shoulders, the way her golden skin would gleam in the setting sunlight.

She held the kermes coloured coat by its collar. Orlando was suddenly at her side, beaming brightly down at her.

"Let me take that for you." He had an arm out in a gentlemanly insistence. Khan knew she was a little stunned by this, he could see it in the tenses of her shoulders. Khan watched them keenly.

"Thank you." She responded, her voice was delicious gruff from having not spoken in a while. Orlando's grin widened as he accepted her coat and folded it over his arm. She left their side and marched to the centre of the platform until she stood facing Susan. They were but two feet apart.

Khan and Orlando moved to a closer spot but remained on the outer area of the arena. Joaquin and Suzette stood to Khan's right.

Susan took a defensive stance. Legs spread to strengthen her centre, her arms folded towards her body by the elbows, her fingers curled into a fist. She seemed athletically intimidating with her hair held back in a pony tail and her entire body radiating in a prowess.

Arba was defenceless in comparison, with her arms at her side and her stance was normal.

Susan didn't hesitate or wait for a signal. She punched first, her strong knuckles colliding painfully against the Wahash's face.

The impact sent Arba stumbling back a few steps, blood immediately rushing out of her nose.

"Oh, that must have hurt." Orlando commented, flinching slightly. Susan was back into defensive mode, waiting for Arba's attack while being pleased of the pain she caused.

Khan expected the Wahash to brush away the blood dripping down her nostrils and fight back, but she didn't. Instead Arba took her passive stance once more and looked Susan dead in the eyes.

The audacity of her unreceptive response irritated Susan, so much so that her next attack was brutal.

The other Auguments stood at the sidelines, watching as Arba received blow after blow. Susan had at one point twisted the Wahash's arm from behind and dislocated her shoulder. A sickening crack echoed and Arba was forced on to her knees from the agony, but no cry left her lips.

Susan towered over Arba, sneering down at her, her features were scrunched up in annoyed frustration.

"Why isn't she fighting back?" Suzette asked curiously, unable to turn away from the scene. Khan was pondering the same question, until it dawned on to him. He didn't actually tell her to fight. She had taken his and Susan's words literally, to see how well she can handle an onslaught from an Augument.

Khan watched as she got to her feet in the same rigid confidence she always had. Her arms were at her sides. Her knuckles were paling from how tightly she was clenching her fists. Blood was still streaming down a cut on her cheek and her nostrils. Her left shoulder was at an ugly slant.

He was impressed, receiving a punch from someone (an Augument no less) and the pain from it was not easy to hide, but she was doing a good job. It was a little alarmingly.

"Arba." He called, the pointed end of her ear facing him, twitched. "You can fight back you know."

In the next moment Susan was flying across the steel platform in reaction to a kick in the abdomen by Arba. Their attentions moved from Susan to Arba, just as she was lowering her leg. Keeping her keen gaze focused on Susan, Arba placed a hand on her shoulder, gripped it and then locked it back into place.

Khan could see the heat in her golden orbs again. Susan was quickly on her feet, still stunned by the unexpected disarm. The Wahash took predatory stance, her shoulders slightly hunched forward, her knees bent, her arms were folded to her body but her fingers were relaxed.

There was an electric charge in the air around them. The spectators watched in high interest.

Susan charged, Arba was still. A series of clouts were delivered by Susan but Arba dodged and block each one with a concentrated speed. Their steps were fast trying to either overpower or defend. It was like watching an intense and murderous dance.

Susan aimed to kill; Arba's actions seemed more...taunting. At least that's what Khan witnessed. He could see she enjoyed the building frustration she was adding flame to in Susan. It wasn't just a fight to Arba; it was a source of entertainment.

The velocity of Susan's next swing came to a abrupt halt when Arba anticipated deflected her arms with a swift strikes. Susan didn't get a chance to defend herself when Arba had already leaned up and head butted her opponent, hard.

Susan's head craned back, dazed. The Wahash didn't waste time and ducked braised her palms on the floor and swept her leg under the female. Susan stumbled back and fell painfully on to the slate. Susan get a chance to breathe, Arba had already pinned her down, claws to the throat ready to deny her life.

"Stop." Khan bellowed. She tensed, her arms stiffening. Almost reluctantly she stood up, gazed down at Susan impassively and then stepped away.

The Augument was struggling to catch her breath, her chest heaving in both fear and fatigue. The usual kept strands of platinum in her hair, had slipped free of its restraint and fell across her face, damped with sweat.

Susan got to her feet on shaky limbs, her murderous stare narrowed on the Wahash. Arba remained stoic and stood in the same composed stance as before. But Khan saw it, the smug glint in her brilliant eyes, like a small flame burning through a pile of branches. Susan could see it too, amplifying her feelings of humiliation.

Susan was a better fighter, but her arrogance made her underestimate her opponent. Either that or, Arba was just better. But Khan was willing to give Susan the benefit of the doubt.

A thought drifted into his mind. This was a Wahash against an Augument at their basic form. _I__magine them in their triggered state_. Khan glanced back at the Ashera and Sabaa, his cold eyes narrowing. Three of them, **_three._ **

He approached the women, followed by Orlando. Suzette and Joaquin remained a safe distance knowing they would be recipients of Susan's wrath once Khan and the others left. He stopped at Arba's side and focused his attention on his fellow Augument.

"I think she proved herself, don't you?" He meant to be patronizing. He didn't wait for her response and gave a pleasant nod of his head to Arba and marched forward. Understanding the silent command, she trailed after him along with Orlando.

Once they had formed distance between the arena, Orlando decided to slow his pace to match Arba's.

"That was brilliant." She was once again startled by his appearance, she moved to take steps back when he stopped and stretched out her coat for her. She eyed the top, then his smiling face. Khan could tell Orlando was charmed by her reluctance and gently waved the open coat.

She surrendered and turned her back to him and slide one arm followed by the other, into the sleeve holes of her coat. Orlando guided the coat over her shoulders and she immediately moved out of his path and began to button the front of her jacket.

Khan didn't like what he saw, the way his second in command assisted her. It bothered him, but he didn't make a move to voice his displeasure.

"Thank you." She uttered with a curt incline of her head. Orlando continued to smile in self satisfaction.

Khan narrowed his gaze and busied his tense hands by pulling out a tissue from the inside of his pant pocket.

"Here." He gestured it to her. Arba addressed him. He gave a pointed look to the dried blood on her upper lip and face.

"One needs to be presentable before meeting royalty." He said, there was a spark of vengeance in her eyes, but she veiled it behind a mask of indifference.

She carefully plucked the napkin from his hold and began to clean herself up. Khan didn't like how Orlando continued to observe her. He was probably intrigued by her already healed wounds.

"Shall we proceed? We are already late." Khan noted firmly, snapping the male out of his thoughts.

"Oh of course, yes." They began to walk again, ready to meet with the Sheikh and his advisers. As structured Arba walked exactly five steps behind them.


	10. Chapter 10: Defiance

** Sassiebone: Aw thank you, I am particularly happy with how that chapter turned out, I am glad you enjoyed it :D. It's an honor that you think I deserve more reviews, hopefully there will be more readers, I am trying to be optimistic about it. **

** Reign: Thank you! Sorry I took a while to update, I am participating in NaNowrimo this year + plus work has taken up a bit of my time too. The next chapter will be longer ;). **

** Alucard's-Master: Thank you so much for the long review, I absolutely adore you for taking them time to give me your opinion. I am happy you saw the little cat like qualities to her character, believe me when I say there will be more ;). Well has restrained as Arba is this chapter will be hinting on the fact that it is straying and a certain handsome Augument will be taking full advantage of it. Things are going to pick up after chapter 10 ^^. **

**Please rate and review, thank you ^^. **

**xx**

**SSC**

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><p>Chapter 10<p>

April 11th 1993

Khan sat at his desk, deep in his thoughts. His gaze however, was focused intently on the creature that sat across from him.

After his meeting with Orlando and the information he had gathered. His surety over one factor only grew stronger with conviction.

The Wahash had to be dealt with, quickly.

Two weeks had passed and he was yet to find a proper method of disposal. Ideally he would have them killed, but their disappearance would alert the Sheikh and his advisors. They were up to something. Khan had Orlando gather information in covert urgency.

_"I found something very interesting." Orlando had stated after appearing for the secret meeting he had called for between the Auguments in his chambers. Suzette and Joaquin stood beside the door, guarding it. Susan, Orlando and Khan stood in an equilateral triangle beside his study._

_"What did you find?" Khan inquired his voice low and reticent, his hands clasped behind his back._

_"His highness is extremely thorough and secretive when it comes to delivering messages; tapping into that network took a little time. He had a private line. I explored his office a little and found something very interesting."_

_"What?" Susan asked, her eyes gleaming in intrigue. _

_"His check books. He had donated a large sum of money to an unregistered company. I will find some more information regarding that. Then there is the interesting conversation I had tapped into." Orlando had been holding a rectangular cassette player with boxy buttons along the sides. He placed it calmly on the mahogany table top. _

_"Who was on the receiving end?" Susan demanded. _

_Mischief lit up Orlando's clear gaze, a wicked smile curved at his thin lips._

_"Oh you know who it is." He murmured mysteriously and then swiftly pressed down on the play button. The red supply reel began to spin. They watched the motion in silence as a dull sound, similar to the crushing of paper, echoed within the room. _

**_"Have they arrived?" _**

**_Khan tensed at the solemn, flat voice that spoke in an arrogant authority. He knew that voice anywhere, having heard several threats of war and announcements over the radio by that same voice. _**

**_"Yes. The plan is in progress." The Emirati Sheikh responded, his English sounded rougher with his thick accent. _**

**_"The operatives have been installed into their quarters?"_**

**_"Yes, it will only be a matter of giving the order." _**

**_"Good, let's hope this works, for all our sakes. Until next time your Highness." _**

**_"Insha' Allah." _**

_The reel played on for a few seconds of silence before it seized with an abrupt click. _

_"Seems the Sheikh has been fraternizing with our enemies, so much for the 'what is mine is yours' speech." Susan grumbled irately, but there was a slight satisfaction in her tone. _

_"Yes, he isn't true to his word." Khan agreed while rubbing his chin in thought "We can't let him know we are on to him. We must find some way to be rid of the Wahash." _

_"Shame, they would have made good allies." Orlando mused with a dejected pout tugging at his lower lip. Susan's contempt went unnoticed by the brooding Augument leader. _

_"Indeed." _

The comment from Orlando made Khan think long and hard. The Wahash could be great accomplices. Their powers matched them in vigor and accuracy. Khan knew if given the freedom Arba would probably tell them everything he wanted to know.

He needed to find a way to extract the information and one calm day he did.

Arba had always had defiance in her. Khan knew it the moment he had met her, but it really revealed itself the day Salim made another appearance.

A "routine checkup" He had said in broken English that was hard to understand. Then he began to furiously explain himself in Arabic while thrusting paper work at Khan from the threshold of his room.

Salim was transformed. His scruffy coffee coloured Gandurah was replaced by a gleaming white one. Khan was hit by an overpowering smell of Bukhoor. It was obvious that the man had recently come to a great inheritance for his services to the Sheikh.

Khan had to reluctantly allow him in. The man walked in with movements similar to a scurrying rat. He sneered enviously at the rich interior of Khan's room until his hazel hawk like gaze fell on Arba. Khan did not miss the pure yearning in his stare directed at the Wahash that stood idly in the corner of the office.

"Tha'al hoona." He ordered gruffly. Arba didn't even blink in acknowledgement. Khan didn't know why he was so pleased by this, but he was. She instead looked to him, awaiting an order.

Khan nodded hesitantly. There was a flash of emotion in her eyes. It wasn't fear, but more extreme dislike. Stiffly she left her post and approached the man. He frowned. Disappointed that she hadn't reacted immediately to his order, but he uttered no rebuttal. He gestured to the centre of the room. Arba took her sweet time to meet him at the centre and stood staring stoically at the back of the door.

Khan had averted his attention from them for a moment to read the document he had handed him. It was contract that listed that the Wahash are to be subjected to monthly tests. The results would be taken to the superiors and the scientists at Appello. The Latin word for summon. Khan did not miss the biblical play of words with the Wahash being created in a place called the Appello. Khan had his suspicions to whether Appello was the place the Sheikh was secretly funding.

Khan raised his gaze again only to find his office door had been slid shut. Alarmed by this he took swift steps to the exit. The door glided open under his rough pull.

Salim was in the middle touching Arba. His hand was cupping the side of her face. The intense revulsion in her eyes seemed to burn through Khan the moment their eyes met. Her face however, remained expressionless.

Salim immediately stepped away from the Wahash at the sound of the door opening. Salim did not hide the distress he felt for being caught in his advances.

"La thakoom begalak had'da al ba'ab." Khan ordered sternly. Salim nodded like a contrite school boy and resumed his duties. Khan continued to observe him by his seat the table, making sure Salim's hands did not wander anywhere they shouldn't.

It wasn't the revulsion Arba had expressed that sparked the idea in Khan. It was the moment when Salim attempted to caress her backside. She didn't endure it like he had expected her to. She growled, low and in a feral manner that frightened the weasel of a man.

She had a lot of anger directed towards the people who had raised her and there was one thing Khan knew about anger. It always had a way of coming out.

Khan knew that he couldn't dispose of the Wahash without alarming the Sheikh. However, he could attempt to break one out of the compulsion they had placed on to them.

If he succeeds, Khan would have an ally and weapon at his arsenal. It was only a matter of utilizing the plan.

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><p><strong>Tha'al hoona: Come here.<strong>

**La thakoom begalak had'da al ba'ab: Do not close this door.**


	11. Chapter 11: Fatima

**Please review :) **

**xx**

**SSC**

* * *

><p><span><strong>Chapter 11<strong>

Arba was different. It wasn't just in her defiant gaze. There was life in her.

When he began to brew the initial steps of his plan he began to pay more attention to her, more than he originally had. When he wasn't busy coordinating with the Arabs and dealing with nation related matters, he was observing her.

Most of the time she would accompany him on all his errands. She was always on guard, making sure strangers did not approach him anymore than she dubbed appropriate. The servants were terrified of her, more than they should be of Khan. But Arba was particularly lenient with one servant girl.

Her name was Fatima.

She was a child, five years old and the daughter of one of the Indian servants. She wasn't supposed to be there that day, but the child wanted to burn the mischief in her and went exploring the castle. Her mother (who was tending to a Khan's left over breakfast dishes) was startled at the sight of her daughter skipping into the room.

The woman had bowed and apologized several times but Khan hardly noticed. His attention was fixated on Arba. He was intrigued by how intensely she stared at the child. The penitent child, unable to shake the feeling of being watched looked to Arba from behind her mother's skirts.

The adolescent's eyes were wide in fascination, her mouth was twisted pensively. But what shocked Khan wasn't the lack of fear in the child, but the softness in Arba's eyes.

Warmth he had never thought he would see in her.

The maid scuttled out of the room in a hurry, dragging her child with one hand while balancing the tray in the other. The moment the child left, the dead stillness in her eyes was back.

There was no denying it, Khan had seen her weakness. Something about that child had left a fracture of emotion in her that wasn't antagonistic. Khan wondered if he was the only one to notice.

He knew one thing for certain; her Achilles heel was his opportunity.

* * *

><p>It was a quiet evening at the Sheikh's palace. The sun had set and the stars were growing bolder and bright as the night grew darker. Khan and Orlando were heading for dinner. Arba and Ashera shadowed them exactly five steps away. The heels of their leather clad shoes, clicked against the gleaming tiles, the sound echoed within the long corridor.<p>

"Orlando." Khan addressed politely.

"Yes?" His second in command responded cordially.

"I feel like we don't know this Salim person enough." The leader stated factually. Orlando was taken aback by the dark haired man's statement.

"Oh I am sorry; I was hoping his obvious impertinent cad like exterior would put you off too." He retorted in a cynically humorous tone. The corner of Khan's mouth quirked up in mild amusement.

"He is the handler of the Wahash, it would be best to make him an ally and not an enemy." Orlando did not miss the sly glance he gave from the corner of his eye to the Wahash following them. He instantly knew that it was Khan's own silent notion of initiating a plan.

"What do you need me to do?" The blonde male inquired his voice had taken an abrupt turn to serious.

"Invite him for a drink, tonight after dinner."

"I am intrigued." Orlando mused in response, but uttered no further questions regarding the subject. "Did you know the Sheikh had him relocated to the room three doors away from you? He must want to be up to date with his creations."

He expected to see a flicker of astonishment in Khan, but he was confused by the lack of an expression in his sharp features.

"You don't seem shocked."

"On the contrary, I am pleased by the convenience of it." Khan stated when they arrived at the banquet hall. The other Auguments were seated awaiting their arrival. His clear gaze searched the room until they landed on Joaquin who stood regally beside Suzette.

"I need to speak to Joaquin." He announced and departed from Orlando's side with Arba indolently at his heels.

* * *

><p>As asked Orlando had extended Khan's invitation to Salim and like clockwork Salim had arrived.<p>

"Sa-lam al'laikum Salim, shook-ran la'koom a'la da'ool atha'ri." Khan greeted amiably when Salim entered his study, escorted by Orlando.

The blonde male took his leave granting privacy for Khan, Arba and Salim.

Salim was dressed in his alabaster Gandurah again, but his head lacked the formal Keffiyeh. His greasy ebony hair was slicked back. The seams around his eyes were deepened in suspicion. Khan allowed the man a moment to find solace and turned his attention to the Wahash.

"Arba." He called softly.

"Yes, Sir." She was instantly alert and at his side, Salim eyed her.

"My Arabic accent isn't as refined as it should be. Would you mind translating for me?" He asked, his attention focused on Salim's hatchet-face. Arba shot him look that seemed to silently question his sudden need for her language skills, but she didn't broadcast her suspicion.

"Yes sir." Arba nodded and turned her profile to face Salim and awaited Khan to speak.

Khan turned and took a leisurely stroll to the side of his room where a small mini-bar awaited. He had already set two Scotch glasses with three inches of amber liquid sparking inside them. He picked up the two glasses in both hands and walked back to Salim. He handed him one and kept the other for himself.

"Salim I would like to thank you for your contribution to our cause, it must not have been easy to tame such creatures."

She translated his words calmly, the silvery tone of her words made a shiver pass through him. Khan pushed back the sensation and watched Salim's expression carefully. The cruelty in his features had lightened considerably from the impact of Khan's translated statement. He responded in his rough accent.

Once Salim was done speaking, Arba craned her neck to Khan "He says thank you for noticing his efforts, you would be the first."

Khan did not miss the spiteful tenor of her retort. He smiled and raised his glass, Salim reluctantly lifted his own and they met in a shrill clink. Khan watched as Salim rapidly downed the amber liquor and then inhale deeply between his teeth.

"I think I am the only one to acknowledge it and reward it." Khan spoke and Arba translated. Salim was confused by the statement. Khan smiled secretively and took the glass from the handler's lose grip.

"Arba please escort Mr. Salim back to his room and do not come back until all his needs are met."

Her tense reaction was instantaneous. She spun around to face him, her eyebrow raised in alarm.

"Sorry Sir I do not understand."

"Yes you do." He cut in coldly, startling her into silence with his intense stare. He waited challenging her to rebel. She pressed her lips down into a thin lined and uttered no complaint.

Salim was watching the two, uncomprehending of the tension that had sparked between the two.

Arba submitted and lowered her gaze; Khan took that as cue to address his guest.

"Lae'la saeeda, Salim." He concluded nodding at the man in a lordly elegance. Understanding the dismissal Salim bowed.

"Wa an'tha, ya sa'eeda."

Khan waited till they left. His gaze was focused on the Arba's retreating back the entire time until she disappeared out of view.

* * *

><p><strong>Sa-lam al'laikum Salim, shook-ran la'koom a'la da'ool atha'ri : Peace be upon you, Salim. thank you for accepting my invitation.<strong>

**Lae'la saeeda, Salim : Good night, Salim.**

**Wa an'tha, ya sa'eeda : And you, Sir.**


	12. Chapter 12: Clockwork

**Chapter 12**

**_"Let your plans be dark and impenetrable as night, and when you move, fall like a thunderbolt."  
>― Sun Tzu, The Art of War<em>**

Khan had a new piece of furniture installed into his study. It was another desk, smaller in width but just the right size to support a twelve by twelve inch white monitor. The vacant black screen reflected his silhouette as he took a seat in front of the desk. After a moment of hesitation he leaned over and pressed his index finger to the silver button at the bottom of the frame. The screen flashed to life revealing the interior of a room similar to his, in gray scale.

The camera was located at a high corner in the bedroom, focused on the sleeping area. Khan leaned back into his seat, with his gaze set steadily on the screen, he waited.

Two figures stepped into the space, Salim followed by a reluctant Arba. Khan stared down passively at the slimy, perverse grin that curved across his craggy face. The smile was directed at Arba. Her fingers were clenched into fists at her sides. They almost looked like they were shaking, but that could be a trick of light.

Salim moved to the side of his bed and then looked to her. Arba stood like a statue at the threshold of his bedroom. He barked an order that was mute to Khan's ears. After a moment of hesitation Arba obliged.

Her hands moved up to her midriff, she began to unfasten the gibbous brass buttons of her coat. Her movements weren't in the least bit seductive. They were forced, robotic, hardhearted. The red material pooled around her ankles, then her pants until she was standing in her white tank top and matching under pants.

Khan shifted in his seat, his pupils dilated behind a canvas of sea-blue. But the moment they fell on Salim and his perverse smile, his eyes narrowed to slits. He continued to watch with an unwavering stare.

Arba stepped forward like she was following a death march. Khan could see the reluctance in her like she carried it as a billboard sign on her shoulder, yet he felt no remorse, he could only observe.

She lied down on the bed, the mattress sunk under her weight. Her arms stiff at her sides, her fingers clenched into fists. Salim lurked in the corner like a dark ominous shadow. His weathered expression alive with lust.

He made his move.

He crept on to the bed on all fours until he was looming over her. Arba remained silent and caged under him. Khan had never seen her act so helpless, obedient. Salim leaned down and her face disappeared behind the back of his head.

A sudden sinking feeling hit the base of Khan's stomach but he pushed it aside. He wanted this to happen, to confirm his suspicions. So he continued to stare.

Salim began to move down her body. Arba had her eyes opened the entire time, staring up at the ceiling. Even as he kissed down her chest and pushed up her tank top. Even as his coarse hands mapped down her sides and gripped tightly at her shapely thighs.

She didn't move, she didn't speak. She continued to lie, silently.

Khan hoped that something would change when her hands were still fists at her sides, but then abruptly, they relaxed.

It was a sign of submission, one that Khan was disappointed to witness.

He rested his elbows on the edge of the desk and weaved his fingers together. He considered coming up with another plan. His intentions for Arba were fruitless. Maybe disposing them was the only way, and he thought he could be sly.

His iridescent gaze lingered on the frame for a moment longer. Salim was leaning over her again, whispering words that were no doubt crass and sadistic.

Khan reached out with the intention of shutting down the screen when the scene before suddenly took a drastic turn.

The movements were so fast that he almost missed it, but the outcome was unable to turn away from.

Arba had kicked Salim, swiftly off her body. The man went flying back and toppled over the edge of the bed and fell to the floor.

Khan mirrored Arba's expression of bewilderment.

She quickly scrambled up into a seated position, her knees pulled up to her chest. She was panting heavily like the simple action of kicking off the assailant went against every fiber of her being.

Khan stood up in a swiftness that rattled his desk. In several strides he was out of his chambers. He marched down the length of the corridor, passing exactly three doors until he arrived at a tall porcelain door similar to his. He didn't bother with polite knock or methodical turn of the door knob. He knew it was locked and the loud, coarse yelling he heard was enough incentive to kick open the door.

He crossed the foyer, turned left and yanked open the bedroom door. The frame slide to the side and stopped with a shattering bang, startling the two figures in the room.

Salim had Arba by her throat. His other arm was raised into the air, poised threateningly. Arba wasn't fighting; her arms were slackened at her sides. The left side of her face was smeared with blood from an open cut. The skin around her eye was swollen and a sickly yellow shade.

At the sound of his entrance, Salim and Arba both looked to the Augument. The Arab man froze up in dread, the fury in his face melting to one of shock. Despite her beaten state, she still squared her shoulders orderly.

"Arba." Khan commanded. "My room, now."

"Yes, sir." Her voice was alarmingly calm, but there was a twinkle of surprise in her one good eye. Salim released her instantly and she stepped off the edge of the bed and moved to pick up her disregarded clothes.

Khan kept his intense stare focused on the trembling half naked Salim.

Arba was dressed in her uniform again. Khan stepped aside granting her a path from the door to the exit. She hesitated for a moment before accepting his silent order and walked forward. She brushed past him. A sharp scent of sandalwood combined with a tang of citrus, distracted him for a moment. His gaze followed her to the exit to find Orlando and Susan lingering in the background.

They had heard the commotion and had come rushing in. The Wahash lingered in the corridor behind the Auguments.

"Orlando." Khan called, the blonde male was swiftly at his side.

"Call upon Sheikh Zayed; we have a disturbance to report."

The sinister grin of cynical pleasure that was plastered across Khan's face made Salim's Adam's apple bob nervously.

* * *

><p>The Sheikh and his guards arrived swiftly at Khan's summon. The commotion and their arrival had caused most of the staff within the palace to appear.<p>

Before the Sheikh's arrival, Khan had Joaquin remove the camera within the room, to hide any form of foul-play.

Khan told the Sheikh that Salim had assaulted a member of his staff. When the Sheikh questioned this due to Salim's loud rebuttals, Khan informed him that Arba was the one who was injured in the debacle. He also had witnesses that proved Salim was the main source of violence.

Khan knew it didn't sit well with the Sheikh that the witnesses were Orlando and Susan. His Highness reluctantly sided with Khan and had armed guards escort a furious, thrashing Salim away.

Khan suppressed his victorious smile till the Sheikh was out of view.

He returned to his chambers. His mind already formulating the next plan, but the moment he entered his room all thoughts seemed to seize.

Arba was in a state of undress. Transfixed he couldn't turn away.

The black Cossack pants that hung low at her shapely hips were the only thing that kept her modest under his eye. Her back was bear of clothing. He couldn't look away from the scars that littered her skin.

He wasn't even sure if they were scars. They seemed like little stars forever burned onto her bronze complexion. The thick mane of her amber and cognac curls hung at the start of her shoulders. His gaze wandered down the taut skin to the sweeping line of her sculpted back.

She leaned forward; reaching for the new white tank top she left hanging on the wardrobe handle. He did not miss the tempting glimpse of plump skin from the side of her breast. He began to fantasize about all of her, facing him, bare for his eyes to indulge.

He cleared his throat, dispelling the throbbing need in him. He expected a virginal response from her at his sudden appearance, but there was only the stiffening of her shoulders. Tensely, she pulled down her top over her head and then spun around to face him.

The swelling around her eye had disappeared, only the deep red cut remained.

A silence filled the room. Arba stood staring bravely up at him. Her entire body was rigid, her hands clenched at her sides. She was awaiting her punishment for not following orders; she was ready to distance her mind from her body. He could see it in the dead, cold look in her eyes.

"Good night, Arba." Khan stated and then swept past her, heading for the bathroom.

"Good night?" She echoed in disbelief. He halted in front of the porcelain door. He turned so his profile faced her again. Her pretty face was alive with confusion he had caused, her golden orbs glimmering in question.

"Yes, pleasantries that are exchanged before a well deserved rest." He uttered casually. She continued to stare phlegmatically, unsatisfied by the explanation. Khan gazed back, refusing to utter anymore on the matter.

"Good night." He concluded firmly.

"Good night, Sir." She responded, despondently.


	13. Chapter 13: Three Moves

**Just a slight warning. Khan is a villain, so please do not be surprised if his acts in the future context of his story is "villainous". Also slightly graphic moments in this chapter. You have been warned. **

**xx**

**SSC**

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><p><strong>Chapter 13<strong>

Khan was not surprised by the cold, mistrustful exterior Arba held towards him (not like it was any warmer before). Ever since the previous night she had posted herself further away from him, like he was the animal she needed to be wary of. He didn't mind, he preferred it, the lack of intimidation from her end was staring to worry him.

Orlando had informed him that the Sheikh wished to speak with him after breakfast. Khan waited patiently for his arrival from the luxury of his high-back chair. Arba sat on the stool at the far corner of the study, staring into space.

There was a sharp knock on the door. Arba was quickly at her feet and looked to Khan, awaiting his instruction. He nodded in approval and she turned away to answer the door.

At her dismissal Khan arranged a few sheets of classified information on his desk into a neat pile. The Sheikh entered in his bleach white Gandurah but his face was absent of any head wear. Khan was surprised to see the man look so casual with his jet black hair swept back and primly trimmed beard.

Arba lingered behind under the arch entrance as Khan leaned over his desk to shake Zayed's outstretched hand.

"My friend we have a bit of a sensitive topic to discuss." His Highness informed solemnly.

"Sensitive, you're Highness?" Khan questioned while gesturing an open hand to the empty visitors chair in front of his desk.

"Yes, it's the matter with your Wahashi and Salim." Zayed said as he took a seat.

Arba ventured to her chair and stood in front of the seat, ready for any abrupt orders.

"Ah yes." Khan bent at the knees to sit on his own chair "What of it."

"Salim informed me that you were the one who sent the woman to his chambers." The Sheikh remarked in a accusatory manner. He cut a quick glance in her direction.

"Yes I did." Khan responded calmly.

"Did you also tell her to bed him?"

"I did no such thing." The Augument insisted, distraught by the very accusation "I wanted to reward Salim for his services as the handler, so I instructed Arba to assist Salim in any way he saw fit."

He felt a wave of seething rage that emitted from the Wahashi.

"I suppose it was my fault really, my lack of knowledge with Arabic had caused them both to misunderstand." He spoke despondently. Zayed's hawk-like gaze narrowed. His harsh features made the look seem more sinister than one of suspicion.

"I see." The Sheikh grumbled under his breath "Honest mistake at your end I suppose, but I cannot tolerate such behaviour in your Wahashi."

He rose to his feet and Khan remained seated in a lordly elegance.

"To avoid any more misunderstandings I think it is best that you discipline her." Zayed insisted diplomatically.

"Understood." Khan stood up "Do you mind if I utilize your basement to exact her punishment?"

The Sheikh smiled the laugh lines around his eyes and mouth deepening.

"My home is your home."

Khan couldn't suppress his triumphal smirk the moment the Sheikh exited.

_Always think three moves ahead. _

* * *

><p>Khan shut the steel door in a clang. The sound rattled the prisoner within the cold stone walls.<p>

Arba was pacing the width of her side of the wall when he had entered. She stopped, her posture immediately straightened in solider like elegance. Her golden eyes were gleaming behind the dark shadows. The only source of illumination was the moon light that filtered through the metal bars on the arch window, across the entrance.

Khan made his way down the stone steps, until he reached the same floor as her. Her eyes followed him until he took a seat on high-back wooden chair beside the steps.

"You may speak." He commanded and Arba didn't hesitate to voice out her questions.

"This is my punishment?" She asked taking a step forward, the chains rattled at her movements.

"For what exactly?" He responded, leaning back into the comfort of his seat. Her dark winged brows furrowed doubtfully.

"My insubordination." She said.

"Ah that." He smiled, astonishing her "I should be rewarding you actually, your rebellious actions led to the dismissal of that repulsive man."

"If this isn't punishment, what is it?" She demanded, raising her arm up to gesture at the hard, steel cuffs around her wrists.

"A test." He mused mysteriously.

"Test of what?"

"Restraint."

On theatrical queue, Orlando entered the room. He trudged down the stone steps, his footsteps heavy from the weight thrown over his broad shoulder. Khan watched Arba's reaction extremely carefully.

Her amber gaze narrowed in on writhing body slung over the man's shoulder. Orlando turned his back to her and marched to the other side of the room, that's when recognized the figure.

It was Fatima. Her face was wet with tears and her cries muffled by the clothed tied around her mouth. Her arms and legs were bounded together by the same type of white cloth. Orlando gently placed the child on cold, granite floor.

Arba's incensed stare honed in on Khan.

"What is this?" She hissed, but from the trembling trepidation in her voice, Khan knew she had a correct assumption. Orlando made a swift exit and the door slammed shut again followed by the sharp shriek of iron locking in place.

Khan raised his arm and pointed a stern finger at the terrified child huddled up at the far wall. Arba followed the direction of his arm with wide eyes, dreading the words he was about to utter.

"Khathal."

She shoulders were forced forward, the chains rattled in unison to the tremors that racked her body. Her thick mane of curls curtained the sides of her face. Her head craned back, her jaded eyes were a swirling, menacing and molten.

She shot forward, claws out ready to kill. The little girl's high-pitched screams were stifled behind the damp gag.

There was a sudden clang and Arba was yanked back by the bolted chains. Her back met the cold stone in a painful clout, but she was swiftly on her feet. She continued to thrash and pull, her deadly stare focused on the child, determined to end her life.

Fatima's cries echoed within the small space. Her body was curled up into a fetal position and she yelled out for her mother repeatedly. Khan didn't care, his attention was focused on Arba.

It was truly astonishing how much prowess the Wahash possessed. They were like mindless killing machines once the order was given. He watched her, the baring of her teeth, the blood lust in her eyes, and her struggle against the chains.

"Kalas." He whispered.

Her knees gave out under her. She fell forward but brought her arms under her in time. Arba panted heavily from the exertion. The cuffs had cut into her skin, blood dripped down her wrists.

"She is just a child!" She cried out, her voice considerably human. She raised her gaze, their eyes met.

Fatima's cries faded into the background.

Khan's iridescent orbs absorbed the sheer desperation she expressed. He had never seen her so vulnerable, so tangible.

"Please." She pleaded "Don't make me do this."

Her words hung in the air, Fatima's cries were reduced to whimpers.

Khan leaned forward. He set his elbows on top of his strong thighs and then weaved his fingers together.

"Only you have that power." He stated confidently position his chin on top of his slender fingers. She shook her head, her hair damp with sweat.

"I can't...I can't." She rasped out pitifully.

"Yes you can."

"Why?" She hissed struggling to stand on shaky limbs, her chest heaved with each breath she took.

"Why are you doing this?"

Khan didn't answer in a swiftness she demanded and he knew it irked her. He leaned back into his seat and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I have my reasons." He responded further antagonizing her. He smirked evilly at the sight of the hate she directed at him.

"Besides, you are to be utilized as I please, yes?"

He knew it was low and crafty to throw back words she had uttered disdainfully, but the satisfaction they brought was hard to ignore. Arba was seething silently. He raised his arm towards the child again.

"Khathal."

* * *

><p>Hours passed, each longer than the next. At each summoning Arba thrashed in riotous movements that continued to terrify the child. At some point during the tortuously slow pace, Fatima had soiled herself and the stench of urine and sweat permeated the air.<p>

Khan once again uttered the word that seized Arba's struggles. She fell on all fours, her hands slapping the cold earth. Her limbs besieged by her weight. Her skin glistened from the exertions.

He averted his attention from her and to the wall behind her. The bolts that held the chains in place were loosening. The top corners of the anchors were beginning to detach from the walls. He was awed by the strength she possessed. He only hoped she had enough to break free of the compulsion the word had on her.

"Seems the chains won't hold you back for long." He mused pensively.

"I'll kill you." She graveled out.

Khan was astonished, his dusky brows rose in wonder. He had been threatened many times in his life. It was the first time he had heard it with such conviction. She met his stare with a fierce, carnal determination burning in them. The flesh around her mouth was scrunched up, her lips held in a deadly snarl.

"I am going to kill you for this."

"How are you going to kill me?" He inquired and sent her an arch smile that further provoked her.

"I am going to rip your throat out and then plunge it into your heart." She spat viciously, beads of sweat dripped down her face.

"That's very imaginative, and highly unlikely." He insisted earning a low growl from her. "You can't even stop yourself from wanting to kill a little girl, how will you possible end me?"

The question hung in the air, she fell silent once more. She lowered her stare to the ground, morosely.

He almost pitied her.

"I didn't do this to you Arba. I didn't make you this way. I am not the enemy." He reminded. He hoped the sympathetic warmth he applied to his voice would ease her, but they didn't. The hate in her golden orbs she directed at him, continued to swirl and brighten in abhorrence.

"You are all my enemies and I will kill **all** of you."

He didn't take her vow lightly. It was filled with a wild, determined antipathy to be considered irrational. She had had these thoughts for the longest time and they were just surfacing.

_Good._ He couldn't help but think. _They will fuel her on the path to liberty._

"Think about it this way." He said "The sooner you are done the sooner the child can return to her mother's awaiting arms."

He stood up with an urge to stretch his legs. Khan regally clasped his arms behind him and uttered the word again.

"Khathal."

The despair on her face morphed into a beastly snarl. She sped forward, the chains rattled, the metal clattered at an attempt to restrain her. Fatima had her face between her hands. Her screams were reduced to pathetic sobs as Arba continued to fight the manacles with a wild violence.

Khan eyed the iron chains, his attention focused on the anchor. At each swing of her powerful arms, the bolt continued to weaken and in the next moment.

The chains were no longer holding her back.

Arba fell on to all fours. Her palms slapped the ground. Her head craned back, strands of wet hair masked molten gold eyes focused on the crying child. The Wahash pushed off the soles of her feet and charged ahead.

Fatima's screams pierced the air.

Suddenly everything was dead silent. Like the end of a war where it felt like a vacuum had sucked out all the air from the space and all that was left was just nothingness. Arba had managed to stop herself, yet her arm was frozen above her head, mid strike.

Fatima had fainted. From an over dose of fear or the exertions it had on her heart, Khan didn't care. His fanatical gaze was fixated on the woman. He stepped forward, moving to an angle so he could see her face.

Her expression was stricken, her eyes wide and flickering from gold to amber. For a moment, he didn't know what her frozen form meant. He didn't know if he had broken her from the compulsion or her spirit.

"Khathal." He repeated his deep, clear voice resonating around them. Her body was raked with tremors again and her elongated fingers curled into her palm.

"No." She gasped out almost inaudibly. She shook her head; beads of sweat escape the ends of her hair in sprinkles.

"No, no no no." She continued to repeat to herself like a soothing mantra. She jolted back, her rear end made hard impact with the floor beneath her. She scrambled back on her hands while shaking her head repetitively. Khan watched her scramble away and just when she thought she was far enough, she stopped and curled into her body.

Then her body unexpected hunched forward and sounds of painful retching filled the room.

Khan scrutinized her for a moment unsure of what to do or say. Had she broken free? Was the vomiting an unfortunate side effect of her battle?

Khan left her to her heaving and moved in quick steps back to the door. His fist banged against the metal once and it opened in response.

Joaquin stepped in and stood beside his superior.

"Return the girl back to her mother." Khan ordered his focus still rested on Wahash. Joaquin didn't hesitate to obey and approached the unconscious girl and gathered her up into his able arms. He was then swiftly out of the room, leaving Khan alone with her.

Her gagging had seized, but she hadn't moved from her hunched position. Khan ignored the distasteful stench of her emptied bowels and decided to step to her.

"Arba?"He called gently. She didn't respond instead she fell on to her side. Khan was immediately beside her. He pulled her till she was lying face up. She was unconscious and breathing gently. He pushed back wet strands of hair from her face. Beads of perspiration littered her forehead and upper lip, but colour had returned to her cheeks, she seemed almost peaceful.

It had worked. Khan couldn't help but feel smug. He gently scooped her body into his arms. She was heavier than she seemed, but it wasn't a weight he couldn't handle. Her head lolled over his forearm, her limbs lifeless.

He turned away from the scene of her liberation and walked up the shorts steps and exited the cold dark room.

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><p><strong><em>Please review :)<em> **


	14. Chapter 14: Zahara

**Chapter 14**

The lack of concern from her fellow Wahash was staggering. Khan figured that when they saw him exit the room with her unconscious form in her arms, they would at least bat an eyelash. But they remained idle by the walls, staring dead ahead, eyes cold and uncaring.

Why were they not surprised? Was it not the first time they had seen a drained comrade? Khan knew they assumed just as Arba had. That it was punishment for her insubordination. Khan didn't plan on correcting them, if they thought as such so did the prison guards. He didn't want the Sheikh to find out what he had really achieved.

After he had placed Arba on his bed, he left the room knowing it would be a while before she woke up. He locked the door and left to tend other matters. Like the Sheikh's demanding questions regarding a hysterical servant woman and the loud disturbing noises from the basement.

Khan headed to his chambers after informing his comrades about what he had achieved. They were anticipating the events to come.

* * *

><p>The Augument reached his suite door late in the night. He fitted the key into the lock and twisted, a sharp click followed. He pressed down on the gleaming gold handle and pushed open the door. He stepped into his room and shut the door behind him. He crossed the foyer in swift steps and peered into his bedroom.<p>

The bed was empty and the sheets were ruffled. He could hear the distant sound of water hitting the tiles in his bathtub, yet the bathroom door was slightly open. He moved in, his gaze narrowing on the porcelain door.

Something was off, everything within the room was too still, too staged. He passed the cupboard and then the bed. His broad formed blocked the strip of light from within the bathroom. He peered into the gap.

The shower head sprayed water on to an empty ceramic tub.

He was suddenly extremely aware of the cool, prickling sensation at his jugular. He couldn't help but be impressed. He was not expecting the threat to his life. His gaze coolly fell to the brass letter opener pointed at his neck, _his letter opener_.

"Now is this any way to treat your savior?" He inquired a hint of amusement in his words. He felt her warm breath on his neck, her heart thudding in a sudden rage.

"You did not save me." She hissed "I nearly killed that child because of you."

"Nearly."

He twisted around and knocked the letter opener out of her hand. She took swift steps back and then brought her arms up to her chest, her stance defensive and prepared for a fight.

Khan took in the fierce determination burning in her eyes and her expression scrunched up in fury.

"Khathal." He uttered stridently. She tensed at his words, her body experiencing the same tremors once again. She hissed and crouched over fighting back the programmed instincts in her. He watched, finding fascination in her struggle.

Her chest heaved with each breathless pant that escaped her lips. Her knees gave out under her and she fell to the carpeted floor.

"It's a work in progress; their brain washing still has a little power over you." He noted resolutely. She ignored him and focused on suppressing the immense pain she was undergoing. Dubbing her docile for the moment, Khan approached her and knelt down in front of her.

"Where does it hurt?" He asked while steadying a hand on her shoulder.

"Everywhere." She grunted through clenched teeth.

"Fight it." He encouraged. She exhaled short breaths, coiling further into herself. She hugged her body around the stomach and after a few seconds, she stopped trembling.

"You have broken your chains Arba." He stated. She raised her head, her swirling golden orbs snapped to him.

"What do you intend to do with your freedom?"

His question startled her. She didn't attempt to mask the astonishment she was experiencing. Khan was enjoying the roller coaster of emotions she was expressing silently. Fear, confusion and finally, realization. She had made a decision in regards to her opinion of him. When she mutely lowered her attention to the floor he knew she no longer saw him as a threat.

Khan studied her in turn, taking in the sight of her small features. It was the first time was at such a close proximity to the woman, he discovered he enjoyed the nearness. She had thin brown lines that slanted up the sides of her cheek bones. He assumed it was a genetic inheritance from her animal DNA. He admired the cat-like round shape of her eyes and the sandy lashes that framed them.

His attention travelled lower, to her mouth. It was soft and parted in an unconscious act of contemplation. He liked the rose tinge of her lips against her honey tone skin, so much so that his belly quivered in a desire to taste them.

"Zahara." She uttered.

"Pardon?" He hadn't been paying attention. Their eyes met, his pulse raced.

"My name is Zahara." She stated firmly. He blinked wordlessly. She had a name that was her own. He wondered, if her will power stemmed from the root of self designation.

"Zahara." He liked the way three syllables rolled off his tongue in a sensual effortlessness. He did not miss the way her pupils expanded.

"Very fitting." He added. She scrutinized him, her stare narrowed.

"Why help me?" She demanded. He hadn't realized he had been smiling until he felt the muscles around his face, rest.

"You are deluded if you think my sole purpose is to help you." He retorted monotonously.

"You are a rare being, Zahara. The powers you possess will be most useful in this battle. But I cannot have a soldier controlled by such little thing as a word, it makes the situation dire. You could be easily swayed by the enemy."

Her golden eyes hardened, irked by his statement "So this isn't freedom, you just released me of one leash to place me in another."

"I suppose it does seem that way if I do not give you the option to be on my side, but I am." He steadily rose up to his full height. She remained crouched on the ground glaring up at him.

"After all the cruelty they had forced upon you, you must want your revenge." Her expression softened to one of brooding precision, her eyes stormy and unforgiving. His acknowledgement had struck a nerve, one he intended on putting to its full potential.

"So I will ask again, Zahara. What do you intend to do?"

She didn't answer him. She directed her attention to the balcony to her left. He followed her gaze, unsure of her reasons. She grabbed his interest when she stood to her full height, her arms by her sides. She turned and strutted past the bed and out the balcony doors. He watched unmoving as she jumped off the edge of the railing and disappeared from his line of vision.


	15. Chapter 15: Confident

** alltheteainchina: **Thank you so much ,you are far too kind :D. I am so happy you are enjoying the story so far, things are going to pick up and all that sexual tension will soon be hard to suppress ;). Enjoy the new chapter :D

** TheLastRider: **Thank you so much ^^. Yes most chapters are short and it was intentional, cliffhangers and keeping the readers on edge sort of thing. I hope you don't mind it too much. Well the story is honestly just starting to pick up, I am so excited to release the next few chapters, things are about to get heated ;). Thank you so much for the long review you have no idea how much I loved reading about what you thought. Looking forward to reading more from you, hopefully the story will continue to keep you on edge ^^**.** Enjoy the new chapter :D

_Please review, I really want to know what you guys think ^^. _

_xx_

_SSC_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 15<strong>

Khan found her sitting on top of a sand dune staring up at the night sky. He wasn't surprised that she had managed to evade the watchful eye of the guards that surrounded the palace. She had even situated herself on the face of a dune, out of sight.

She had left deep foot shaped pits in the sand that were slowly disappearing in the light wind. The cool air licked at his forearms as he ascended the hill. He could feel grains of sand seep into the shoelace holes in his boots and fill the insides. He ignored the itchy sensation of the granules and focused his attention on her.

She was lost in her thoughts. Her soft, cognac and honey curls fluttered around her. Her fingers were gently clenching and releasing the sand under her, allowing the grains to slip through her the gap between her fingers. Her legs were crossed in a meditative position, her breathing effortless.

"This is what you wish to do with your freedom?" He inquired his voice silvery in the silence.

He paused to mimic her attention to the sky "Star gazing."

Despite awaiting her reply Khan couldn't help but be a little enchanted by the twinkling lights among the sea of black. The desert was a mere silhouette of waves, shadows compared to the beauty of the night sky. The heavens were gleaming and glittering like diamond dust on black velvet.

"We were never taught what they are." Her statement snapped him out of his spell.

"What?"

"Stars." She whispered into the night.

"I know their name, like I know that is the moon." She raised her arm up and pointed to the full moon that hung proud and porcelain above them. "And the sun rises and sets and the vast body of water we are surrounded by is called a sea that leads to an ocean. But I don't not know what makes them. What is a star? Why does it twinkle? Why does the moon only show its whole face once a month?"

Khan couldn't hide his stupefaction. His stare was powerful enough to burn a hole through her. His lips parted at an attempt to form words to such a astounding revelation. They weren't taught basics about the world they habituated? It was positively blasphemous in his eyes. Khan had lived most of his short adolescence questioning everything around him. Curious about every living and lifeless object that he came across. The scientists even struggled to provide him the answers he desired. Even then, he sought information on his own.

The fact that Zahara had lived with all her questions and no answers bothered him immensely. He was sure he felt something close to sympathy for her.

"Why were you not taught this?" He demanded.

"Unnecessary information." Her words held a disembodied tone, like she was repeating a sentence that had been said to her many times.

"We were taught ways to kill a man. How to survive in harsh climates. Use our bodies to their utmost potential. Information about the world we live in was simply...irrelevant."

Khan couldn't help but feel insulted. Knowledge was the most relevant thing on the planet, without an understanding there would be no key to success. He tried to imagine himself without all that he knew. The idea was horrifying.

He averted his hard gaze to the stars once more, their light reflected in his clear eyes.

"Stars are exploding balls of gas, mainly hydrogen and helium." He began to explain "The plasma is held together in space by its own gravity. They give off their own light, hence the twinkling."

"What about the ones that do not twinkle?" She asked eagerly.

"Those are planets."

"Planets, like ours?"

"Not exactly." He paused to glanced back and see if anyone had noticed them loitering in the desert. The palace lights were shinning bright and the area around it was knew the staff was too busy tending to tasks concerning the ball the next day, none would notice the two of them in the outskirts. Satisfied he lowered himself on to the ground and sat down beside her. Zahara watched his movements the entire time. There was a glimmer of hostility in her eyes but she didn't utter a word of complaint.

"They are built up of different compounds and are uninhabitable to us. There are nine planets in our solar system." He continued to teach, she listened intently. "We can only see one side of the moon, as it orbits us the shadows mask the sides that leaves our sight, the alignment with the sun plays the most part in that. Once a month it completes its cycle and we see the full moon again."

Silence wrapped around them once more, but it was full of ease. Zahara was pondering the information he had bestowed upon her. Khan watched her from the corners of his eyes.

After a moment she shifted around so her profile faced him. He craned his neck to observe her. He could see her nervously twisting and pulling at her fingers, trying to gather words.

"I haven't been grateful for much." She began to say softly "I don't really know what the word meant until now but..."

A shaky breath left her lips and she found the courage to meet his gaze. Even with the faint light they were provided, Khan could still see the specks of gold in her eyes.

"Thank you, for freeing me."

Gratitude was not something he was accustomed to receiving; initially he didn't know how to respond.

"Ultimately you freed yourself, I merely orchestrated it." He insisted flatly.

"Maybe one day, I can do the same for you." He couldn't help but snort derisively at the seriousness in her tone.

"That would be highly unlikely. I never intend to be captured." He vowed smugly. There was silence at her end. He could feel her scrutinizing stare dance over his face.

"So confident." He did not miss the playful tone to her words. "What is it that makes you so sure of your abilities?"

"Science. Me and my kind are genetically engineered to be superior." He answered assertively.

"At what?"

"Everything."

She fell silent but it wasn't the ego-bruised, seething, kind of quiet. She was calm, collected and observant of him.

"My condescending tone does not offend you." He noted surprisingly unsure himself.

"Why would it offend me?" She responded.

"Your only great talent is murder, in a world among intellects you will fail."

"That is true." He could hear the smile in her words and suddenly wished there was a more efficient method of illumination. "But my interest does not reach to intellects."

"What is your interest?"

"Survival."

A bitter conviction underlined her tone, he needed to know why.

"What is the reason behind your need to survive?" He knew he had asked the right question. There was always a reason. No one survived just for the sake of existing. He survived for power, he craved it, to rise above and bring world order under his thumb. He doubted Zahara had the same desires he did, hers were more skin deep.

"My sister." She said her voice tight and controlled "We were separated, it was my fault. I wouldn't behave and they grew tiresome of my rebelliousness, so as punishment they took my sister from me. My whole purpose in coming here was in the hopes of finding her. But my search has yet to be fruitful and I was not expecting their...mind control."

"How did they do it?"

"Needles and a lot of noise." She was frustrated with her own vague response "It's hard to describe I—I don't remember most of it. But I do not think it is the only one command they have for me."

Khan mulled over her words while pressing his fingers together in thought. He knew it was intentional, a form of hypnotism to imbed the words into their subconscious.

"I didn't think so either." He murmured "Was it the Sheikh that funded this...project?"

"I never saw the face of the benefactor. Only the scientists. Their faces I do not intend to forget anytime soon."

"When do you intend to forget them?"

She looked to him "Once I kill them."

Khan smiled, impressed by the lethal vindication in her voice.

"Maybe they will be present at the party tomorrow." He cut a glance at the twinkling lights of the palace in their background.

"It's not just revenge; I want to emancipate my people."

He looked to her, trying to peer through the darkness and witness the determination he heard.

"It will be difficult."

"But not impossible." Khan knew that was a blurred line to her now, considering she had held on through sweat, blood and tears to break through her mind's compulsion.

"Once you share all you know and after you help me conquer that which I desire?" He asked.

"Yes." She nodded.

He fell silent, considering her request. It was a simple enough deal, help her free her people for the information he needs to defeat his enemies and conquer the Middle East. He stood to his feet and then stretched an arm out for her to take.

"I agree to your terms, Zahara." He stated confidently.

She reached out and grasped his hand firmly and hoisted herself up. Once she was eye to eye with him, she smiled.

"And I you."


End file.
